Throne of Thorns
by slzimmer
Summary: Queen Margaery and her brother Loras escape the coup of Cersei's enemies at her trial. Meanwhile across the world our favorite characters prepare for meeting one another and war. (Starts during the season 6 finale.)
1. Petals on the Wind

_DISCLAIMER: I do not have any rights to HBO's Game of Thrones or A Song of Fire and Ice by George RR Martin. This story is solely for entertainment for all. Enjoy._

 _Most of you have already read these entries so feel free to skip ahead to the 2_ _nd_ _Chapter (Dany's chapter). Also the chapters will not be typically this long ever. I just decided to merge chapters I had to reboot the story._

 **MARGAERY**

"Petals on the Wind"

Margaery stood horrified as she watched her brother—her heart and soul—get mortified by the religious posers she had come to resent. After the seven-pointed star was finished being carved into Loras' head, Margaery stood there wanting nothing more to embrace him. They settled down for a few minutes until Margaery realized that Cersei was nowhere in sight and became anxious.

"There's something wrong.", Margaery said to the High Sparrow.

"You have nothing to fear, your grace. The trial will begin shortly."

"Cersei is not here. Tommen is not here. Why do you think they're not here?"

"If the accused is not here, she will be tried regardless. You can't escape the justice of the gods.", the High Sparrow relays.

"Forget about the bloody gods and listen to what I am telling you. Cersei understands the consequences of her absence and she is absent anyway. Which means she does not intend to suffer those consequences. The trial can wait, we all need to leave. We all need to leave, NOW.", Margaery says in a voice that came from her throat. She was becoming restless. She walks to Loras and grabs his arm.

"Loras stay with me. Loras, I need you to listen to me. I need you to be strong right now. Cersei is not present at her own trial and the High Sparrow does not intend to let us leave. There are lower levels underneath the Sept, in fact one of them has a chamber that leads to a garden. Follow me.", Margaery whispers to her brother's ear as she caresses his greasy hair. She walks up to the High Sparrow who looks down upon her.

"High Sparrow I believe that Loras would like to rest in one of the chambers. I could escort him while we wait for Queen Mother Cersei to arrive.", Margaery says with the warmest smile she could muster.

"Seeing his current state, I suppose I will allow it, however with a Sparrow as an escort, of course.", the High Sparrow says while watching the two intently. He raises his arm and gestures to one of the shorter Sparrow's. "Sparrow Coren, please escort Margaery and Loras to the uppermost corridor below. I will send for you whenever the Queen Mother arrives… However long that may be."

Margaery glances to Sparrow Coren and gives him a warm smile as he starts off towards the steps behind the Mother statue. Margaery glances back at her father and gives him a look of despair and sorrow. While walking, Margaery notes that the Sparrow is grasping a sledgehammer made of iron and wood in his right hand. They reach the steps and begin down them while Margaery squeezes Loras' shoulder. The Sparrow is two steps ahead of them before Margaery shoves him with all of her strength. He yelps as he falls down the narrow passageway face first. He slides before he stops moving, disoriented.

Margaery carefully steps over him to retrieve his sledgehammer which he dropped on his way down. She moves one foot beside his torso and puts the other by his head, but as she tries to move her other foot in front of her, the Sparrow grabs it, causing her to fall forward. She hits the ground hard, but this enables her to grab the sledgehammer. After grabbing it she slams the hammer down on Sparrow Coren's head. A high pitch yelp escapes his mouth and his right leg begins twitching as blood gushes from his head. "Loras, we must go now!".

Loras who was staring off into the distance, looks down at the scene and starts toward Margaery who was looking expectantly. She grabs him and pulls him along the corridor. "I believe the Septa lead me this way. Yes because there was the chamber I was in.", Margaery notes. They walk further whenever they reach the end of the corridor. Margaery back tracks and opens the chamber to her left, to find another corridor. They enter it and begin to see a dim light which is hitting the left side of the path. Once they reach the rays of light they exit two doors and reach a courtyard with a flower garden in the middle. They walk through the garden and reach an archway with a steel door. Margaery pushes the steel lever down with all of her strength, causing the latch to unlock. She opens the door and her and Loras escape the Sept. Margaery removes her crown of oak wood with gold roses and wraps it into her blue sash. They would have to worry about Loras' head later.

"We are behind the Sept, which means that we are on the eastern side of King's Landing, so we need to go to Lion's gate to make it to Highgarden, until we are sure it is safe to return. Come along Loras." The two make it barely one hundred meters away from the garden, when they are suddenly knocked onto their knees and their hearing is disabled. Margaery remembers heat, until she blacks out.

.

Margaery wakes up on a hard bed, with her head bandaged. "Loras.", she says in an earthy voice. Her whole body ached as she struggled to sit up; particularly her head. She looked around the dim room and saw that she and the bed were positioned in the back corner of the room, with a small table. On the table were bandages and a candle. She was about to get up, whenever a short, wrinkled man with long hair, white as snow entered carrying a glass.

"I wouldn't get up if I were you… not yet at least, your grace. You are lucky to have survived a blast of that sort… Well I suppose you were a sufficient distance away for the pressure to not have killed you, but it did give you some brain hemorrhaging I'm afraid. Nothing a little milk of the poppy and rest can't heal though, your grace."

"How many days has it been?", Margaery asks looking into his green eyes.

"Two days. No need to worry your Grace, however judging by the Sept I suspect someone had it out for you and whoever else that was in there…"

"Two days! Where is Loras, is he okay?"

"He is fine your grace. I wish I could say that he was as good off as you, but he did take most of the blast."

"I need to see him."

"Your grace, not without some milk of the poppy. We can't have you putting too much stress on your body.", the man says while holding up a glass of milk of the poppy.

"How does a commoner such as yourself, obtain milk of the poppy?"

"Well I am a Maester, your grace. In fact I served during the era of your grandmother… 'Queen of Thorns' eh? Haha."

"Wait, you served for Highgarden?"

"Well of course, your grace. Now drink up.", the Maester says while moving the bottle towards her mouth. Margaery tastes the strong sweet medicinal taste instantly and reluctantly swallows it with a loud gulp. She feels relief immediately from her throbbing head.

"Hm. Your name, Maester?"

"Yuran Tyron"

"Tyron… You are from one of the most loyal banner men our house possesses. What are you doing all the way in King's Landing?", Margaery asks.

"Actually, I was assigned here to keep an eye on things by the Queen of Thorns herself."

"Leave it to my grandmother to always have pieces on the board. Do you mind if I see my brother now?"

"Of course, your grace. Let me help you up, even though I could use some help myself, hehe."

"Thank you, you are very kind." Maester Tyron walks over to the bedside revealing his threaded brown robes and helps Margaery up. Together they walk to another room with a fireplace, beside her room. The room is smaller than Margaery's and has two candles against the window sill, illuminating the sack in which Loras rested.

"I'll give you a minute alone with him." Margaery smiles at the short man as he walks away. Margaery goes to Loras' bedside and grabs his hand. She sees that his forehead was also wrapped; his face was bruised and swollen.

"I'm sorry Loras… I failed you… I thought I could beat Cersei at her own game, but I couldn't and now father is dead. For once I do not know what to do anymore. All my life I wanted to be Queen; to be vain. Look where it has gotten me—us. We don't even know if Tommen will take me back. Cersei has probably filled his head with all kinds of deception, maybe she even has him locked away. To think she would go this far. No one knows we are alive, there is no telling what kind of torment Grandmother must be going through… assuming she has gotten word." Margaery rubs the top of his left hand, noticing the roughness of it. His hands used to be so soft, Margaery thinks to herself.

"Your grace pardon me, but I couldn't help to overhear you mention your husband…", Maester Tyron says while walking back in with a hand towel in his hand.

"Yes, what about Tommen?"

"I'm afraid he is no longer with us. He died." He responds slowly while removing the bandages from Loras' head.

"Tommen… I cared for him as he did I, but it does not surprise me. His poor soul was too weak to rule… Maester what shall I do?" Margaery watches the man wipe her brother's bloody forehead carefully. Margaery was running out of options, she knew it was bad, but now there was no chance of returning to the Red Keep.

"Do what you have always done: grow strong. Survive then thrive.", he responds nonchalantly while bandaging Loras' head.

"I don't even know how to do that. Cersei believes that I am dead and it must stay that way. The only move left is to go home to Highgarden, but how? We are trapped within the gates."

"We will find a way, your grace. A bird has already been sent out, relaying your status… whether they believe it or not I do not know, but we will await a response."

Margaery walks to the window and looks out at King's Landing; the candles beneath her chin casting a glow on her face. "Cersei is Queen now isn't she?" Margaery was sure of it as the banners had been replaced.

"Yes, your grace."

"Why do you still insist on that title. It has been ripped from my grasp… 'Lady' is not even appropriate. I may not even have a home to return to. Cersei has taken everything from me.", Margaery says feeling displaced, destroyed even. She holds her palm over the candle allowing it to rest there until she feels the burning sensation that she knows will come.

"Forgive me, but Cersei hasn't won yet. After all, you and your brother still live… As long as you live, she has not won. Don't confuse your destiny with your fate. Fate is inevitable and inescapable, but destiny is ever changing by the decisions you make. Make the right decisions and you will reach a role far more important than just 'Queen'. Do you think that it was mere luck I happened upon you, no it was your fate to survive… Do not let it be all for nothing."

"Thank you Maester. You are very kind…", Margaery says with a pause. She unravels the crown from her sash and walks over to the fireplace. "This is no longer me.", she says so low that only she could hear and as the crown burns she becomes tranced by the dancing flames.

Maester Tyron walks up to her and puts his hand upon her shoulder, also looking down at the fiery scene. "Another last thought, my Lady… It is upon my knowledge that roses are as deadly as they are beautiful… For the beauty of the rose, we also water the thorns.", he adds while walking away leaving Margaery to the warmth of the fire.

.

It had been a sennight (seven days) since Margaery woke from her two-day recovery. She was finally able to function normally without milk of the poppy—which she was pleased with since she would have stomach aches from the strong taste. Loras had finally woken just two days before. Highgarden had received Maester Tyron's message and were sending a Knight escort for Margaery and Loras. Daeron Tyron—Maester Tyron's nephew, a high Knight, was sent to escort the two siblings back. They were expecting him any day since it took about a sennight to get to King's Landing from the Reach.

"Maester I have to say that I am worried about your nephew's arrival.", Margaery said. She pursed her lips after taking a sip of her tea. Maester Tyron and herself were sitting at the small table in his common room; Loras was resting in the smaller room just to the left of the commoner room.

"Oh, I can assure you that Daeron will be here soon enough. They do not call my nephew the Knight of the Shadows for anything eh?"

"The Knight of Shadows. Grandmother spoke highly of Ser Daeron all of the time. I haven't seen him since we were younger in age. I believe she wanted me to wed him. She would always say he was the only sword worthy of the title 'Knight' in the Reach.", Margaery relayed as remembering Ser Daeron's appearance—long dark brown wavy hair (which he always had a top knot to keep his hair from draping down his forehead), piercing emerald green eyes, and a tall toned build. He was quick on his feet which was unusual for someone his height and he was rather adept to fighting during the night hours. Margaery remembered how he obtained the title 'Knight of the Shadows': he was renowned for escorting nobles who were being ransomed by vengeful smallfolk or Dornish bandits, but he earned the title due to those who feared him because he wore all black armour and a hood cloaked his head.

"Ah yes so I have heard of the many tales of his ability to see in the dark. Slashing through many with his black iron—'Midnight', only to ride off on his black horse Regal. Haha you know he reminds me a lot of my brother, his father. Yorke always was the muscle, the strength, and myself well I was always fascinated by patching up the knights and making concoctions for illness."

"Well I guess we shall expect him at night then, Maester… Ah Loras you must come and sit at the table with us. Come, sit. Would you like some tea?", Margaery asks with a warm smile. Loras comes and sits carefully at the table.

"Hello.", Loras says in an earthy voice. He had just woken from his rest.

"Hi, you look well. Maester what would you say about his state?" Margaery caresses her brother's faintly bruised face. He winced away.

"I must say Ser you are looking well. The bruising and swelling has went down tremendously. How are you feeling?", Maester Tyron asks.

"I feel fine.", Loras replies lowly.

"That's marvelous. Would you like some milk of the poppy, Ser?", the Maester asks while going to his wooden shelf.

"No, I'm fine.", Loras responded while looking down at his tea that Margaery handed him.

"Are you sure Loras? Maester I believe you'd better give him a spoonful just in case.", Margaery relayed while putting her hand on her brother's shoulder.

"I do believe he should drink some, just to make sure he isn't putting too much strain on his body. Here you go Ser."

"I said I was bloody fine! Stop talking about me like I'm not here!", Loras yelled while standing.

"Ser it would be best if you calmed down—"

"Stop calling me Ser! I don't have a title anymore!", Loras yells and goes into his guest room.

"Maester I'll take that to him. Thank you.", Margaery says with a smile. She takes the jar of milk of the poppy and the spoon from Maester Tyron.

"Of course your grace."

Margaery entered the room to find Loras on his knees in front of the window. "Loras…"

"Sorry about yelling.", Loras says while keeping his eyes closed.

"Loras please drink this. You need to. I know that you are going through a lot right now, but you cannot let the past consume you. It does not define you. You are so strong and you need to grow stronger.", Margaery says while pouring the white liquid into the spoon. The smell of it made her stomach churn.

"Margaery can you pray with me?", Loras asks. He pauses and opens his eyes to see his sister looking expectantly. He took the spoon from her and drank the milk of the poppy.

"Of course, Loras." Margaery was worrying about Loras. She was furious at the High Sparrow for tainting her Loras—the Loras she knew and loved. She couldn't possibly understand how he still believed into the same things that mutilated him. However, she understood that she had to do whatever it took to get whatever pieces of her brother back. She got onto her knees beside Loras. She could feel the sunlight warming her face and shoulders instantly. She closed her eyes and waited for Loras to start.

"We are praying today to the Light of the Seven, for we have sinned and are continuing to sin. We ask for the Mother's mercy and forgiveness and we pray to the Crone for her wisdom so that we make the right choices in the journey to come. We also pray to the Father to bring justice for our father and any enemies against us. We—"

"We pray to the stranger as well… We thank him for sparing our lives and hold truth to the fact that our lives hold a greater future…", Margaery interrupted.

"We thank you again—", Loras says before being interrupted by Margaery.

"Stranger we ask that you bring death upon Cersei for what she has done to our father and to the people of Westeros. She must pay; all men do in the end.", Margaery says. She felt the warmth fade off of her face; she could tell that a cloud was covering the sun. It made her feel uneasy, so she opened her eyes and stared at a dark cloud in the sky. She turned to her brother who was still praying and got up. "That was beautiful Loras. Ah I almost forgot! The Maester picked up something from the market for you. I'll be right back."

Margaery left the room and retrieved a black and gold bandana from the room she was staying in. She walked back into the room and handed it to him.

"Oh thank you sister. It's nice.", Loras said while rubbing his fingers on it.

"Oh don't thank me, thank the Maester. I figure that you can wear it until your hair grows long enough to cover it… Here let me put it on you." Margaery grabs the bandana and ties it onto Loras' head so that it covers his scabbed scar. She walks in front of him and takes in his appearance. "Ah there we go… It brings out your eyes. Grandmother always said your eyes looked as if you could see into someone's soul."

"She did.", Loras said while smiling.

"There it is, your smile. It could melt the winter itself. Now let us eat. We must be ready for Ser Daeron's arrival."

After eating dinner the Maester stepped out not saying his whereabouts. This left the two siblings sitting by the fire.

"Where is the Maester?"

"I don't know Loras. That is a good question…", Margaery responded. She began to ponder on where he could be. The market? No, it was too late. So where, unless he was captured. This brought chills to her spine.

"You don't think he was—", Loras began before he was interrupted by his sister.

"No of course not. He will be back soon enough. Hopefully with news."

Suddenly someone entered through the door. Margaery stood up and grabbed a knife from under Loras' bedding. She walked to the opening with the blade drawn and peered out to see a man that was presumably Ser Daeron. He had the same top knot with the sides and back of his hair loose. It cascaded down his shoulders stopping right before his torso. He had on all black armour, his chest plate having a molded rose sygil into it. He had a little beard but under it on the left side of his chin was a scar that rode down his neck. "Ah Ser Daeron. Forgive my rudeness."

"Daeron is fine, my Lady."

"Well Daeron my brother and myself cannot be more grateful at your service. You will be highly rewarded for this, I can assure you. Margaery is fine as well old friend.", Margaery says with a small curtsy and smirk. Loras entered in behind her, while the Maester walked in and shut the door.

"Hello. I would thank you, but Margaery already has with such grace.", Loras tells Daeron who simply nods and shakes his arm.

"Well I went out to send a raven and I ran into my nephew. Great timing he has, eh?", the Maester says while sitting. "I would offer you tea, but you three must be headed on your way."

"So soon?", Margaery asks.

"Yes, my Lady. I have killed the night guards at Lion Gate so we must be on our way before the other guards come in to relieve them.", Daeron says while hugging his uncle. "I shall visit soon enough."

"Do come nephew. I rather enjoy our philosophical conversations over tea.", the Maester responded warmly. "Go along Margaery and Loras."

"Until next time. I thank you deeply for caring for us when we needed help the most.", Margaery says.

"Yes, thank you Maester.", Loras tells the Maester.

"Oh, it was my honor. I shall see you soon enough when the Lannisters have paid for their crimes against Highgarden and the Reach."

The three exit the Maester's corridor and enter the streets of eastern King's Landing. There wasn't any commotion except for a few drunkards stumbling about. Daeron walked to his black horse, Regal and grabbed garments out of the satchel pouch. He handed two gray robes, with hoods, to Margaery and Loras, which they put on immediately. Margaery noted there was only one other brown horse, which must have been one from King's Landing. Margaery and Loras mounted it and they headed to Lion Gate in the dark, with only a half moon and a cloudy sky above them.

.

"We've made it.", Margaery notes as they reach Lion Gate. She looks at the tall structure and sees four torches lit along the columns holding the gate up. She sees four guards lying dead on the dirt, each with pools of blood flowing out whatever wounds Daeron left upon their flesh.

"You or your brother can take one of these horses.", Daeron says loud enough for only the two of them to hear.

"Loras you are better fit for choosing a worthy steed.", Margaery turns and says to Loras, who was sitting behind her on the horse. Loras climbed off and went to the two horses tied to the black torch arms. Margaery took this as her opportunity to turn and get her last look at the Red Keep. She took in all of the towers and reminisced about her time as Queen—Joeffrey and Tommen. She looked at the red banners with gold lions and felt a fire burn in her stomach. Margaery's thoughts were soon interrupted by four guards riding on horseback headed towards them.

"HEY!", one of the guards yelled.

"Loras let's go!", Margaery said while Loras mounted a horse and lifted a sword.

"You and your brother go ahead! I can handle them. Here!", Daeron yells as he tosses Margaery a long dagger. She catches it and looks concernedly at Daeron. "Go! I will meet up with you further down Goldsroad."

"Fine. Come back in one piece!", Margaery yells. She leads her horse through the gate, with Loras behind her. She turns and sees Daeron slashing through a guard; He will be fine. The two ride through the villages on the outskirts of King's Landing and stop only when nothing surrounds them but the night sky and the chirping of the insects and birds.

"He should be here by now.", Loras says lowly. He had started a fire for them. They both sat by it in front of each other; their horses tied to a Birchwood tree. They sat in peace until they heard ruffling of the bushes.

"Thanks to the Seven. You're back.", Margaery says while standing.

"I don't know who you were expecting lady but it sure as hell wasn't us. Hehe.", a burly man exiting the bush says, he was carrying two cleavers. Margaery quickly unsheathed the dagger she was holding, while Loras drew his sword.

"I can assure you that you're making a huge mistake. Men like you are cut down quickly.", Loras says while walking around the fire.

"Good thing there is another then.", another guy says behind Loras. He was shorter than the burly guy and he had his sword drawn. He quickly swings his sword causing Loras to dodge it, by leaping.

"What is it you want? Gold? Nobility?", Margaery asks, concern in her voice for her brother. He isn't well enough to battle this man.

"Now we're getting closer.", the shorter one yells. "What are you two doing all the way out here? Those horses are from King's Landing and judging by the looks of you two, you don't look like nobles or guards, so you must be running from the law. I wonder how the Queen would feel about that, eh?"

"Yeah, I wonder what she would think about that.", the burly guy adds. He slides both of his cleavers against one another.

"You wouldn't want to do that.", Margaery says while lowering the dagger.

"And why not pretty one?", the burly one asks. Margaery cringes at what he said.

"We have gold, more gold than you can imagine. We are Margaery and Loras Tyrell. I am Lady of Highgarden. We can give you an extremely large amount of gold, if you help escort us to Highgarden. I can even make you Knights. How-how does that sound?", Margaery says hoping that her smile did not crack. The guys turned and looked at each other.

"That sounds good enough to me.", the burly one says.

"How do we know that you are really the Tyrells. They are supposed to be dead.", the short one says.

"Here, look at this.", Margaery says while pulling her sleeve up to show her gold bracelet that Tommen had made for her. It was pure gold with a rose sitting atop her wrist, with vines engulfing her wrist.

"That's real.", the burly one notes while putting his cleavers down.

"Indeed, it is.", Loras adds.

"What is your name?", Margaery asks the burly one.

"My name is Yurane."

"Well Yurane the thing is your friend here could not possibly become a knight and I don't think we have a use for him. Also, that's less gold for you if he tags along."

"You foolish witch! Do you honestly think he would buy that? You are dumber than I thought.", the short one says. Yurane looks at his accomplice and charges with his cleavers. "Yurane you fucking cunt!", he yells before dodging with his sword. The two battle with Yurane winning, after he drove his cleaver through his friend's shoulder. "Agh!"

"Sorry Jon, but gold is gold.", Yurane says while he grabs a kneeling Jon's hair.

"Finish it Yurane. He never had a chance.", Margaery says while walking to Yurane with her dagger drawn. She watches him decapitate his accomplice while reaching up towards his throat, with her dagger. She quickly swipes the blade against his throat and shoves him forward. He falls hard to the ground and Margaery watches while the blood gushes from the slit as he grabs his neck trying cover it. Loras came up beside her.

"You're pretty skilled with that dagger and your wit can get you out of any situation. You are the full embodiment of our grandmother.", Loras notes. He didn't sound amused, but Margaery knew he meant to; she knew he was trying to be his usual self.

"I know. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing, haha… Oh Daeron, we were worried.", Margaery says while Daeron rides up on Regal. She noticed fresh blood on his breastplate.

"No need to worry about me. I hope you two got some rest. We need to keep moving. We will rest during the sunlight hours.", Daeron says while lighting his lantern.

"We're traveling in the night hours?", Margaery asks.

"Yes, we must. There are wolves and mountain lions in these parts. Also, cunts like those two you knocked off. My main concern is to get to Roseroad which will take us directly to Highgarden.", Daeron says while tying the lantern to the saddle of Regal.

"We know how to get to Highgarden, we lived there our whole lives.", Loras notes. He had begun untying Margaery's horse and his own.

"And yet you need me.", Daeron added not impressed.

"Ugh um. We'd better get going then if we plan on making it to civilized land by daybreak.", Margaery says while mounting her horse. Loras mounts his and they begin their travel.

"I'd hope that we would have reached at least one village by now. I'm exhausted.", Loras says in an earthy voice. It was dawn and the trio had been traveling all night long. There were now on Roseroad.

"We will arrive to a village soon. There we can stay at an inn.", Daeron says. He was leading the siblings, being ahead by a couple of yards.

"You've been there before?", Margaery asks. She had her hood on to keep her hair from frizzing up from the morning mist. She had begun tired of seeing the same forest landscape; once you had seen it once, you'd seen it all.

"Yes.", Daeron replied. "Fear not. My name has a story to it, no one will bother us."

"Mm… Don't worry Cedrik we will rest soon enough.", Margaery says as she spoke to her brown horse.

"You named your horse Cedrik?", Loras asks.

"I know it's a bit silly, but it's in honor of the first horse I've ever owned." Margaery had caught up to Daeron and watched him smirk. "So he smiles?"

"Yeah, he does actually.", Daeron responded. Margaery could tell he was reserved and she hoped that he would open up to her.

"Daeron have you ever questioned why you were named after the Targaryens?", Margaery asked him. She had hoped he was still willing to be open with her.

"My father told me it was in honor of my Grandfather who fought alongside Daeron Targaryen during Robert's rebellion."

"Aw I see. Such bravery. I've heard that my Grandmother was meeting with the Dragon Queen—Daenerys Stormborn.", Margaery says. "As of now I would rather have anyone sit on that throne than Cersei. Even if she is the ruthless conqueror that they have painted her to be."

"All conquerors have to be ruthless. It is after they conquer, that you can determine if they are fit to rule.", Daeron replies.

"I'm sure she will be fit to rule with the smallfolk's approval of course. She did take slavery out of Slaver's Bay after all. Seems pretty benevolent to myself."

"You do know that your grandmother doesn't know you are alive yet?", Daeron asks. He turns to his left and looks at her.

"Yes, I know… I can only imagine what she must be going through. She will know soon enough though.", Margaery responds lowly. "Loras how are you?"

"I'm holding in there.", Loras responds.

"Good because we're here now.", Daeron says as the trio reaches a small wooden village.

…

Next time: Margaery reaches Highgarden with Loras and Daeron. Loyalties are tested.

 _Sorry for the length again. I was too lazy to rewrite a shorter version of it. Thanks for reading—let me know what you guys think._


	2. The Ties That Bind

**DAENERYS**

"The Ties that Bind"

"I just told a man who loved me, that he could not come to Westeros with me and I felt nothing.", Daenerys said to Tyrion. They were sitting in the throne room of the Royal Pyramid.

"You are his Queen, of course he wants to serve you. He will not be the last to fall in love with you; kings have many women longing to spend one night in their presence."

"Hm I suppose you are right, Lord Tyrion… I want to know something… Tell me what do you think of me as a ruler—my worst qualities and my best.", Daenerys says. She leans forward and raises her dark eyebrows so that he understands she wants his unapologetic answer.

"Oh well… you have an iron will for better and for worse. It shows your dedication and resolve, but yet it makes you an immovable force. A good ruler always listens to their advisors—no one likes advice. We all believe that we have the solution to every problem, but yet there is always more than one solution to any problem. You inspire people and your values are on the right side of the spectrum…"

"But?", Daenerys interrupts urging him to continue. She glances down to prepare for what was to come next.

"But you have to learn the value of life. I say this to say that in Essos brutality is a part of their everyday lives and here that may be accepted by the people. However, the people in Westeros remember the last Targaryen that sat on the throne and they remember his brutality. Your grace, you have three nearly grown dragons. Have you considered their opinion on you? You will need allies and it is essential that you do not use fear to rule—but love the same way as here.", Tyrion relayed while gesturing his hands. Daenerys pondered on how people viewed her children. She knew that people viewed them as beasts, but how did it reflect on her? She considered what she had to do.

"I know what my father was and I also know what my brothers were… I have no intentions of following their paths. I have created my own and that is why I will not bring the wrath of my dragons to Westeros… Unless I have no other choice, of course. Any advice on inspiring the people of Westeros?"

"I would say finding a strong Westerosi nobleman with an army would be the best and one of the only options. It would give you another connection to Westeros and your wedding would show the people your caring, nurturing qualities.", Tyrion notes while glancing outside of the pyramid's window.

"Marriage has always seemed so arbitrary to me after my first love… However, I will do what is necessary, though I will not bear his kids. Unless you have a solution to that as well?", Daenerys relayed. She thought about her _Shekh Ma Shieraki Anni—her sun and stars_ and what they lost. It deeply saddened her, much more than anyone would ever know.

"I wish, your grace. I suppose we will solve that problem when we get to it."

"Any suitors in mind? _Perhaps Lord Varys can negotiate that as well_." Daenerys hated to admit that she needed Varys. She knew he was an asset, but still she knew he could not be trusted. _I will keep him close._

"Well we would want to avoid North of the Vale and I doubt you would want to marry Lord Robbyn as he is no man yet. The Northerners will not be as forgiving as the south, as your father did burn northernmen in the throne room. They simply cannot be trusted at the moment. That leaves well—Dorne and Highgarden. I'm sure Lord Varys could negotiate that, as they have already pledged themselves to House Targaryen."

"Hm… We will discuss the matter more in Dragonstone. I want to know what you think of Lord Varys—can I trust him?"

"Of course, your grace. He is the reason why I am here.", Tyrion says with a serious face.

"I am aware you trust him—I asked if I could. I am not asking about your friend Lord Varys, but the man Varys. I am asking about his character. I know things about him…"

"He is a tricky man to figure out, but his intentions seem pure.", Tyrion said trying to mask his defensive tone. Daenerys knew that her intentions with Varys would have to stay to herself for a while, as Tyrion sees him as the man who saved him—not the spider that he was.

" _Yes they do_ … He is a tricky man. That brings me to the next matter I wanted to discuss: you. Can I trust you?"

"Of course, your grace. I have taken an oath to serve you."

"As you did another…", Daenerys rebutted.

"I did, but that was a different time—before I met you."

"Very well. Lord Tyrion the day that King's Landing is seized you do realize that Cersei will be executed? She has committed too many crimes against my people—your people and I will not have her claim interfere with mine."

"I understand, your grace. Cersei is truly an evil person. I cannot believe what she did to the Sept. Well I suppose I should, she has tried to kill me more times than I can count so I guess it is poetic in a morbid sense.", Tyrion says all the while looking at his hands. Daenerys could tell that the two have more of a connection than he wanted to admit— _they are siblings after all_. Daenerys knew that blood was one of the strongest ties that bind; blood, love, and history. Nevertheless, Cersei had to pay for her crimes. _And she will pay._ Daenerys suddenly realized that she had been quiet for too long and glanced at Tyrion. He was staring at her while she drifted away but pretended to be staring outside of the pyramid.

"Lord Tyrion do you swear to me that you will never betray me or House Targaryen for that matter? Do you swear to me that when the time comes you will betray your own blood and fight against your own?", Daenerys asked. Tyrion turned towards her and looked at her with a look she couldn't quite describe. Somewhere along the lines of admiration and dedication.

"I swear it, your grace. I will serve you unconditionally. You are my Queen, after all you have taken me in even after I served another.", Tyrion said. He stepped down off the ledge of the wall in the tan throne room and got on one knee.

"Do you swear to me that you will fulfill all duties of a just Lord Hand and that you will check my worse impulses and desires?"

Tyrion slowly glanced up in disbelief. This would be his second time being Lord Hand and it seemed odd. Why him? He was a drunkard—sure he was cunning but what other traits did he have that made him tolerable. He didn't deserve this, not after what he did to his love and his own father. "Your grace, are you sure?"

"Lord Hand, it would be a great offense to refuse an offer of such magnitude from a Queen. I am choosing you because you are willing to do whatever it takes to accomplish your goals. You are also a noble Lord of Westeros and I need all of the Westerosi support I can get and…", Daenerys started, while reaching into her black robe to pull out a bronze Queen's hand pin. Tyrion was getting emotional, but he felt disappointed though he masked it. _Is that all I am—a trickster who happens to be lucky._ "… And I have come to enjoy your company."

Tyrion glanced up once more now with a tear rolling down his face. He sniffled as Daenerys reached down to pin his leather top. One of her silver tendrils brushed against his shoulder as she did. "Tyrion of House Lannister, I now name you Lord Hand of myself—Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, rightful Queen of the First Men and the Andals. Rise as the Queen's Hand."

…

Next time: Daenerys boards her ships and sails to Dragonstone. Meetings will be held—as will trials.

 _Thanks for reading. Let me know what you guys think and I am open to any suggestions_ _J_ _._


	3. The Maiden & the King

**JON**

"The Maiden & the King"

"Did you hear of the Freys?", Sansa asked her brother. They were in the Lord's chamber. Jon was sitting writing rations on parchment. He glanced up.

"No. What about them?", Jon asked.

"I assumed you read it already.", Sansa looked. Her fiery hair cascaded down her shoulders in deep waves. Three twists on each side of her head were pulled back in a bun; it symbolized her Northern and Southern heritage.

"I haven't. Let me guess _he_ told you.", Jon asked. His sister nodded in silence. He was referring to Petyr Baelish. Jon knew little of him, but he knew that he didn't trust him with his little sister.

"Every male of House Frey is dead. Winter came apparently.", Sansa relayed while taking a seat in front of the wooden table set adjacent to the fire. She was wearing her dark navy leather dress which she had made recently. On her shoulders were speckled gray fur pads; the length of her skirt pleated.

"Who did it? How?", Jon asked. He stopped writing and sighed. He had to admit it was pleasing to hear, but it also shocked him. It was not every fortnight an entire house went extinct.

"I don't know. I suppose it was some of my uncle's loyal bannermen. The Hanns or the Yuntleys, I would assume. They were poisoned with the Long Farewell. Nevertheless, it is greatly appreciated by House Stark.", Sansa said with a smirk. She thought of how it was poetic that Myrcella Lannister was poisoned with the same substance.

"Hm. I would like to know—whoever it is we will need their help in the war to come.", Jon said with a grim face. The fire put a dim glow on his face; half of his sable hair pulled back into a bun to honor his father.

Sansa stared at him for a while. He had told her pieces about _them_ but never went into detail. 'Death' is how he described them. He told her of about the Night King and his ability to resurrect the dead and his legion of white walkers—each with their own army of wights. All of it seemed too difficult for Sansa to imagine. She believed in things she could see and feel not play things from stories in her childhood. Yet she did believe Jon because one thing Jon had never been was a liar.

"Jon, we have the wall to separate us from them. It has never fallen so why now?", Sansa asked. Jon had already had the discussion once before with her and it was frustrating him. He knew it was hard to believe stories that Old Nan use to tell, but still. He was her brother and she should trust him.

"Sansa, I have seen them—"

"—But Cersei Jon.", Sansa interrupted raising her voice.

"Cersei is not death Sansa!", Jon yelled. He felt bad for yelling at his sister, but he didn't know any other way to make her listen. She hadn't seen them, she hadn't fought them. Sansa surrendered as she relaxed her shoulders and took a breath. "Look Cersei is mortal. The Night King and his army are not. They don't sleep, they don't eat, and they don't tire. We need to find dragonglass and more valyrian steel. We need rations and men. Cersei has to wait, besides my army will not march south. Not after Father. We are safe up here—at least from her."

Sansa waited before she responded. "Jon if you think that something that does not speak or have any motivation is smarter than Cersei then you are mistaken. I have sat and watched men make decision after decision. They are dead—I'm not. Please listen to me."

Jon looked at Sansa and sat further back into his seat. "What would you do—I'm not saying I will do whatever you say, but I will take heed sister."

"Recruit the same bannermen that you plan on using against the Night King if he marches south. The Vale will follow you as will all of the Northern houses, the freefolk and the Night's Watch unless they wish to join the Night King. I'm not saying we march South but we need to be prepared. Cersei is too unpredictable, and I would not put it past her to march North."

"The Dragon Queen—Daenerys.", Jon said. He was given the parchment with the Targaryen seal earlier and he suddenly remembered. He wanted to hear what Sansa had to say on the matter because the thoughts that he was having didn't seem rational. He knew of her dragons and he knew that they would give a great edge in a battle against the dead, but still her house was no friend of the Northerners. Northerners never forget.

"What of her?", Sansa asked. This topic never ceased to intrigue her. There were many stories about her and Sansa wanted to know more. _What motivates her; what are her desires beside the throne?_

"She sent this to all of the noble families.", Jon relayed. He handed her the piece of parchment.

Sansa read it and sighed. "So Dorne and Highgarden are supporting her claim and she is sailing to Dragonstone? Jon, I hate to say it, but we need her. After all, doesn't fire kill them?"

"Yes. How do you know we can trust her? She is a Targaryen with three dragons—and they are not the size of sheep.", Jon said. He was playing devil's advocate as to see what cunning thoughts his sister would spur.

"I don't but we share a common enemy and we should let her take care of Cersei—support her if we have to. She can't be any worse than Cersei. Trust me. The two of you actually have much in common. She liberated the slave cities and united the Dothraki—a feat no one else has done. You united the wild—freefolk and brought them south of the wall. Another thing that has never been done.", Sansa told him. She almost called the freefolk wildlings which she knew he hated.

Jon paused for a while to consider the similarities. He wondered why Daenerys did those things and what she felt like in her situation. He knew how he felt and it was more so a duty than an honor for him. "Sounds like you have already pledged the North to her. Her father was the Mad King and he burned our relatives Sansa."

"Jon you of all people should understand that a child should not be judged by their parents…", Sansa said. She regretted the words as soon as they came out. Jon stared in silence. "Sorry I shouldn't have said that. What I mean to say is that she never knew her father and she was raised by whomever was giving her refuge at the time. She knows what it's like to suffer at the hand of a monarch, so I would expect her to be reasonable at the least."

"So what—we should bend the knee to her and swear an oath?"

"No I'm not saying that Jon. Look you are the King and my brother. I will support you either way. All I'm saying is that if you want allies, this may be our best chance. Just see how her siege plays out. You don't have to bend the knee to her, you are a King."

"You think she won't fly North, as Targaryens have before?"

"Well on the chance she does, we will have the armory make weapons strong enough to kill a dragon.", Sansa relayed.

Jon looked at her face, which was serious. He could not deny that Sansa was a skilled strategist anymore, even if they may not have the resources she was discussing. "Oh and I guess we have a dragon to practice on as well."

"Don't patronize me. We have to be prepared now—otherwise we will end up like Mother and Father.", Sansa said. She often felt as if she was speaking something sinister into existence by discussing the ones they had lost, but still she spoke of them. It was a soft reminder of the revenge she wanted for her family.

"And Robb."

"And Rickon… Gods I miss them. So, what do you think happened to them?"

Jon knew exactly who she was referring to and it wasn't the names that they mentioned. She was referring to Arya and Bran. "I don't know."

…

Next time: Jon hosts company. The North has to defend itself.


	4. The Lone Wolf

**ARYA**

"The Lone Wolf"

It felt righteous to kill the cunts that murdered her Mother and brother. She imagined what it felt like for Walder Frey to watch them die. She knew that murder was an experience of sensation—sometimes it felt powerful to take something so precious from another, but this sensation was for those who were weak or _wanters_. Other times the feeling makes you sick—these people weren't killers, not true ones. Sometimes people break and they kill. No, the sensation that Arya was after was pure revenge; to get even. She knew that crossing off her list of names would not bring her joy or return what she had lost. She simply wanted those who had wronged her and anyone who did not deserve it, to suffer. In a sense she views herself as a bearer of death. She didn't care about the bloody gods except for death because it comes for all. As far as she was concerned she makes her own decisions. Nothing had stopped her yet and nothing would. Not after the training she had endured with the Faceless Men.

She was sitting atop a branch of a tree watching her target, ten meters away. He had just entered his tent with another older man. They just arrived onto Kingsroad and she had been following him since the Twins. This man wasn't even on her list of names so she wouldn't tell him her name; he wasn't worth it. He was just a dumb, rich cunt and only one person would care if he died which was a bonus in Arya's game. She sat there sharpening her daggers, and on her thigh sat a piece of burnt rabbit leg. She stole it from drunk soldiers gathered around a fire. She would wait here for a while until the other general left the tent—sure she could take both of them but there was no need for her to be careless. She ran her plan through her head various times with different outcomes. In some of them she was injured and was forced to flee sooner than she wanted. In others backup came and she would use a spear in the left corner to take them out. However, one thing that wouldn't change was the face that she would steal.

"We will reach King's Landing in a fortnight given the King doesn't send other orders.", one of the men—not her target—said. She was listening to their conversation, using the training from the House of Black and White. She was able to ignore noise that she didn't want to hear and this helped her to hear her own thoughts better as well.

"Of course. Have Bronn stop by my tent on your way out.", her target said.

"Of course, Ser."

Arya watched as the older gentleman left. _Great another cunt I'll have to kill._ Going out of her way was something Arya did not like to do. It was too spontaneous and this was not the way Jaqen trained her; a killer had to be graceful if they wanted to be an assassin. Luckily her time training with Syrio Forel and the Hound taught her how to play the game of Westerosi warfare as well—which to her was not graceful, but brutish and aggressive. Another thing that was lucky was that the bald man was coming her way.

Arya let her waist fall to the side of the tree branch with her thighs gripping it and now she was upside down. She grabbed the branch below her head and swung her body into a flip to the next tree—which was about five meters from her. She hit the tree hard, but noise wasn't an issue for a Faceless Man as they spent years learning to distribute their weight evenly. She wrapped her arms around the trunk of the tree and set her feet on two adjacent branches. She waited until the man was two steps from being under her and let herself fall onto his shoulders. He grunted, but before he could react she flipped her wrist revealing her steel dagger and slit his throat. She jumped down and watched the man fall to his knees gripping his throat. Blood poured out the gash in his neck, splashing on his gold armor. She sheathed her dagger and waited for him to fall limp. Next she sat his body against a tree so that he wouldn't be discovered until she was long gone.

Arya fixed her low bun and walked towards the tent of her target. Her arms to her back, along with her two sheaths for her long daggers; Needle to her side. She had acquired the daggers from the House of Black and White and they sliced through flesh as if cutting silk. She stood at the opening and slowly entered the wide maroon tent. The tent had a table in the middle with several burning candles, a pitcher of wine, parchment, ink, and lion pieces on a map. Her target was preoccupied sitting at the table writing. She glanced to her left and seen the wooden holder with a Dornish spear and two Westerosi steel swords. _I'll have the spear after it is done._ She glanced to her right and seen a sleeping cot. She glanced in front of her again and stared intently, while clearing her throat.

"Bronn, done fucking tonight's whores, are we?"

"No.", Arya replied. Jaime Lannister noticed a girl's voice and stopped writing. He glanced up.

"Oh haha. Now who are you? You don't look like a whore.", he replied nonchalantly. He smirked while pouring wine into a mug. He couldn't place the girl, but she seemed oddly familiar with her dark hair and wide, expressive blue eyes. The candle light reflected off the side of her wide face.

"No."

"The proper way to respond would be: No, Ser. I am a knight after all.", he said. He took a gulp of his wine.

"No.", Arya responded. She gripped on one of the dagger's hilts with her left hand. She would steal his face, but first she had to kill him. The most important thing of taking a face is that the person has to be killed first and only by the wearer. Taking a face while the person was alive at first would ruin the face, as their muscles wouldn't be relaxed.

"Oh feisty, are we? If you aren't a whore, then why did you come to a rich knight's tent?"

"I'm here to kill you."

"Now why would you want to do that?", Jaime asked. He wasn't quite sure her game, but he indulged it. It was attractive on her.

"You speared Ned Stark in the streets." Arya took a step. "You killed Jory Cassel." She took another step. "You conspired with House Frey to murder Catelyn and Robb Stark at the Red Wedding." She noticed Jaime get uneasy as one of his eyes twitched.

Jaime sat there staring at the short girl and that's when he realized who she was. _I was for sure she was dead._ She was Arya Stark. The girl he took an oath to protect and to bring home. He could never forget her eyes because they were the same eyes he stared into long ago when swearing that very oath to her mother. Before he could even reach his sword—which was behind his seat—he was stabbed in the hand. He yelled in agony. He felt the blade pierce through his hand and into the table. _How could she move so fast?_ He panicked and tried to pull his hand out, but Arya didn't move her hand. She inched forward to look him in the eyes.

Arya twisted the dagger and made sure it was anchored into the table. "Because of you and your wretched sister my House is no more!", she yelled. She didn't mean to let her emotions get the best of her, but it enraged her to think of what she had taken from her. A tear escaped her eye.

"Yo-you're Arya Star-k. I swore an oath to protect you and your sister, to your mother—Catelyn Stark!"

"I don't care, my mother and my sister are dead because of you, and now you die too.", Arya said. She had regained her composure. She pulled out her other dagger and walked behind her target. She pulled her dagger to his throat and exhaled.

"No! Listen to me! Sansa lives, I sent Brienne of Tarth to find her and she did! Jon Snow—your bastard brother is with her as well! H-he rules the North now."

"Liar! A dead man tells many lies. How could I trust you?", Arya asked. She knew he was most likely lying but if there was any chance he was telling the truth she had to know. _Please._

"Read it! There! On the table, the parchment. No, that one! See?", Jaime yelled. He was panicking. Arya read the words and suddenly started shaking. _How?_

"Did you read it?", Jaime asked. His hand was leaking blood through the wood of the table and onto the floor. He winced at the pain throbbing through his only hand.

"Stop talking.", Arya murmured. She walked over to the Dornish spear which had a redwood base and steel blade on the end. Embedded into the blade was a ruby on both sides. She grabbed it and twisted it, before drawing it in front of Jaime's face. "Tell Cersei that winter came for House Frey and that winter is coming for House Lannister. Tell her that Arya Stark lives and that I am a Faceless Man. One day I will come for her and she won't know it is me as I will wear the face of another—possibly yours."

Arya walked closer to the table, relieving the spear at her side and pulled the dagger out of his hand. He winced. She waited until he made eye contact with her and she stared for two seconds, before disappearing into the night.

 _So the pack lives?_

…

Next time: Arya makes it home, only to discover that it isn't as welcoming as she thought.

 _Thanks for reading. Review, so I know what you guys think. :)_


	5. The Queen's Plan

**CERSEI**

"The Queen's Plan"

"Your grace.", Qyburn asked. He had just entered her private chambers. Cersei was sitting alone at her table, enjoying a glass of wine.

"Yes?", she asked. She was annoyed at him for intruding her alone time. She used this time to think of her enemies and old memories—while drunk of course. She sat there, her hair in her golden short crown coming barely an inch below her ears. She wore a black satin dress with hints of gold and maroon fabric sewed into the shapes of spirals along the length; the sleeves were fitted along the length of her arm and on her wrists there were thick bracelets made of pure gold with red rubies atop them.

"The council meeting will be held shortly in the throne room.", he responded carefully.

"And Lord Tully?", she asked.

"I'm afraid he is not here, your grace."

"As expected. I will have to remind him of the Red Wedding. Hm.", Cersei replied. She smirked at the thought of killing the whore, Sansa's uncle. Cersei was furious to find out how useless the Boltons would turn out to be. "Ah, Qyburn—how are the revised scorpions coming along?"

"The design is coming along very nicely—with much more mobility and less reload time. In fact if the engineers complete it as expected it will allow the user to be able to shoot two spears before having to reload again."

"Yes, very nice. The Dragon whore is expected to arrive in Dragonstone in a fortnight. The nerve of her to send a raven with a parchment telling of her allegiance with Highgarden and Dorne. Nevermind that—the old cunt Olenna and the murderous bitch Ellaria will be handled with accordingly. We shall deal with Dorne first—they won't expect the crown to attack the southern-most land with haste. And my brother… I always knew since the day he tore through my beautiful mother with his wretched body, that he—he was destined to bring the end to the Lannister name. Well he'll try at least." Cersei paused and took a gulp of wine, finishing off her glass. She glanced up at Qyburn expectantly.

"Yes, that sounds nice, your grace."

.

"Lord Errol, Lord Baelish, and Lord Greyjoy the crown thanks you for accepting the call.", Cersei stated with a gesture of her left hand. The three bowed and Euron stepped forward.

"Ugh um, actually I am King of the Iron Islands.", Euron stated arrogantly with a sly smirk. He noticed Cersei reposition herself in the Iron Throne making her annoyance known.

"You aren't half as smart as you are arrogant. You stand before Cersei Lannister—first of her name, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and well you know the rest. I do not acknowledge any other monarch.", Cersei responded. "Anyways I gathered you here because Westeros is in anarchy. Highgarden and Dorne lead by Olenna Tyrell and the bastard Ellaria Sand stand with the usurper, Daenerys Targaryen. House Stark lead by Sansa Stark and the bastard Jon Snow have declared independence. Meanwhile Edmure Tully refused the call and as such the crown does not have the Riverlands' forces. The crown asks you to call your banners and to preserve your resources as you will need them for the battles to come. Lord Baelish you have successfully seized control over the Vale I presume?"

Petry Baelish stepped forward with a long dark gown on as usual. "Of course, your grace. Let us say a prayer for Lord Arryn who has fallen quite ill and at such a young age."

"Hm yes. You will take a small portion of the Lannister men—2,000—to march onto Winterfell with the Knights of the Vale. Take Winterfell and it is yours. The crown will name you Warden in the North and as such I will pardon Sansa Stark. You will wed her to keep control over the North. I'm sure you will enjoy that... Oh and I have something for you waiting at Blackwater Bay.", Cersei relayed with an eye roll. She clenched the knobs on the arm rests of the throne.

"That I will, your grace. Once I have seized Winterfell that will restore another Kingdom to the seven and you will have the strength of the northernmen for the war against the Dragon Queen. I look forward to receiving whatever _gift_ you may have for me.", he responded with a smirk.

Cersei nodded to him and smirked before glancing to her left. "Lord Errol of Storm's End, the crown asks you to take your men and to march onto the Riverlands. Remind Lord Tully that he has no option but to serve the crown. Kill his men but do not harm him. Do this and Highgarden will be taxed with providing wheat to you yearly. Do you accept?"

Lord Errol, a tall man with graying black hair stepped forward and lowered himself on one knee. "I do, your grace."

Cersei nodded again. "Lord Greyjoy the crown asks of you to sail south to Dorne with your men and to seize it. Do this and the Salt throne will have two seats."

"And Highgarden, your grace?", he asked raising a dark eyebrow.

"I will decide what to do with them on a later time. Again do you accept?", Cersei asked.

"Yes.", he relayed. Cersei grimaced at him and Qyburn proceeded to grunt. "Oh—your grace. Sorry we don't have such formalities on the islands… Well we do, but we just don't care, hehe."

"Anyways this is good. With our forces united we will restore the balance in Westeros and tear through our common enemies. I'm sure you all are wondering about what plans I have for the usurper and her three full grown dragons, so I will allow my Lord Hand to tell you.", Cersei relayed. She raised her right arm and Qyburn stepped down at her right.

"My Lords I have developed a weapon strong enough to penetrate a dragon's skull. It has a near full mobility and it shoots out two spears individually before having to reload. The scorpion is what I have named the weapon. I will send out the parts along with the instructions to you in two fortnites' time in which you will be expected to replicate them. I would advise training your men with them as Daenerys Targaryen could attack any of your Kingdoms once she breaches Westerosi soil. We must be prepared for the destruction her dragons will bring."

"We look forward to receiving these scorpions, my Lord Hand.", Petyr Baelish responded slyly.

.

"Qyburn have you heard word of Jaime?", Cersei asked. She was sitting in the council room. Ser Gregor stood in the back corner of the room. Qyburn stood in front of the table.

"No, your grace. Not since the last raven. I would expect them any day now."

"Of course...", Cersei replied. She tried to hide the worry in her voice. "And the prisoner?"

"We have successfully detained Maester Tyron and he is being held below, your grace."

"Take me to him. We must know if the news is true."

The two proceeded to walk down below the throne room to the cells where the Maester was being held. He sat in the corner of a black cell, his robes torn and dirty. His once snow-white hair was now matted, greasy and a dull gray. Ser Gregor placed a torch on the outside of the cell, so Cersei could see his face. She looked at his hazel eyes and his dirty bruised face and smirked. _Pathetic old man._ "Ser Gregor, remove him."

Ser Gregor opened the cell and grabbed the man by his arms and slung him out of the cell. The Maester's frail body landed on the cold ground with a thump. He yelped and got on his knees before Cersei. She grimaced down at him, the dancing torch casting a sinister red glow on her face.

"Maester Tyron is it true that you kindled Loras and Margaery Tyrell back to health and you also helped them escape from King's Landing?"

"Y-yes it was necessary... You will pay for your crimes against the people. You are a monster that must be stopped and Queen Daenerys will—"

"Ser Gregor.", Cersei interrupted. She heard what she needed to know and now he had to pay. She would have the last word. Before he could complete his sentence, Ser Gregor marched forward and grabbed the man's hair. He pulled until the Maester's scalp separated from the skin on his face. He shrieked as blood poured down his face until Ser Gregpr grabbed him by his frail throat and snapped it.

"Make arrangements for Highgarden Qyburn.", Cersei stated blandly. She pulled up her gown as she stepped over his body and walked back to her corridor.

…

Next time: Cersei revels in victory. She sets her endgame for the usurper.

 _Thanks for reading. Review, so I know what you guys think._


	6. The Wall

**BRAN**

"The Wall"

"Who the hell are you?", Dolorous Edd asked in his heavy accent. Bran glanced up silently. He felt the brush of fur from his gray coat against his neck; it was the coat Meera made for him.

"I am Branden Stark, Jon Snow is my brother. You are Dolorous Edd the 999th Lord Commander of the Night's Watch."

Meera stood there uneasy as the man looked to her next. "I'm Meera. Meera Reed."

Dolorous Edd stood there quite perplexed, he thought of why two noble born would be north of the wall. It was the least he expected them to be, as he thought they were wildlings. Finally, after pondering he retreated and signaled to his brothers that they were good. "Alright. Come along, I reckon you are both hungry and tired."

"Quite.", Meera responded after Bran didn't. She drug him behind her until they finally reached the tunnel under the wall. The tunnel was dark and much colder than the outside; every footstep echoed through it. Meera watched as clouds of breath escaped her mouth in front of her. It reminded her of the cave they once resided in and those they lost.

When they were finally in the Common Hall of Castle Black they were presented with rabbit and fox stew. Meera finished hers with haste and watched Bran barely touch his. Meera knew that whatever he had seen in that cave changed him forever. It saddened her because she had watched the Bran she knew slowly dissipate into a man without passion.

"So, what the hell were you both doing above the wall?", Dolorous asked.

"I'm the three-eyed raven.", Bran replied nonchalantly. He was drifting again—taking a peek into his siblings' lives. He did this often along with experiencing important moments in history.

"Oh.", Dolorous Edd responded while taking a swig of ale.

"What he means to say is that he is the new three-eyed raven. We escorted him above the wall to be trained by the old one.", Meera explained.

"We?"

"Well there were more of us, but we are all that's left…", Meera responded while playing with her wooden spoon.

"Ah I see. So, the three eyed raven means what exactly?", he asked. He took a bite out of his bread and washed it down with more ale.

"I can see everything—every memory important to history and anyone whose name I know. I can also see glimpses of the future.", Bran replied. His voice was monotone as usual.

"Well shit. Don't go peeking into my past—all you'll see is lots of drinking and pissing.", Dolorous responded. Meera stared and to her surprise Bran actually smirked. Finally, Meera burst into laughter, Dolorous joined her. Bran followed suit letting out a soft chuckle.

"Well I hate to ruin the mood, but I have news for you Dolorous and it must stay between us for now.", Bran started.

Dolorous Edd nodded and waited for Bran to respond. He waited until he realized Bran wanted a verbal response. "Alright, I swear it."

"The Night King and his army of white walkers and wights are on their way here. He is coming for me—not only because I am the three-eyed raven, but because of this.", Bran replied grimly. He pulled up his thick gray sleeve to reveal a dark mark on his forearm. It was the Night King's mark full of his dark magic. "He touched me and now not only can he track me, but if I were to go south his mark would allow him free passage through the wall. He knows this, and he intends to force me South by attacking Castle Black from the outside. We must be prepared."

"And why can't we retreat South? We would be better prepared, and it's not like we have the forces we need here.", Dolorous asked. Meera stared in shock.

"We can't because there are certain things that must take place if we hope to have a chance to defeat him. Most importantly my brother cannot know that I am here or that the Night King is coming because he will try to join the battle too soon. If he comes here he will die—it was destined for him to die here at Castle Black and he cannot. He has to meet Daenerys Targaryen first."

"Ugh um okay… Why should I believe you—how should I know that you are who you say you are?", Dolorous asked.

"When you were ten your Mother would tell you bedtime stories about the great ancient kingdom of Valyria and how it fell. You often think about those memories and her voice when you think of her death.", Bran stated. He watched as Dolorous tilted his head and shifted while finishing his ale. Bran knew that his comments made others uncomfortable, but it was the only way that he could make them believe him.

"Well er' I will send ravens to Eastwatch and Shadow Tower for men.", Dolorous stated while rising from the wooden table. "When should we expect him?"

"It's impossible to know exactly, but he is going to wait as well. He has no idea what we are planning, and he saw the comet years ago, so he knows that the dragons live again."

"Okay.", Dolorous stated while walking away. He exited the Common Hall and went to stand atop the wall. Bran turned his head to Meera.

"How long have you known this?", she asked. She moved his bowl closer to him so that he would continue to eat. Meera had come to enjoy caring for Bran; it gave her a purpose in her everyday life.

"For a while now. I didn't want to worry you.", Bran answered. He was slightly taken back whenever Meera picked up his spoon and held it to his face. He hesitated and opened his mouth—all the while looking at her perplexed. She smiled and glanced down while putting the spoon back into his stew.

"Oh okay, thanks I guess. You should eat.", Meera stated. She moved her thick curly hair out of her face and held her head down for a while.

"Meera you don't have to stay… Not if you don't want. You lost your brother because of me, you lost years of your life because of me. You can go home to your Father if you want—I would never blame you."

"Shut up. I knew the risk whenever I ran away with my brother and I would never abandon you. Besides you're my family now too.", Meera stated with a smile. Bran smiled back. "Now finish your stew. You'll need your energy."

With that Bran picked up his spoon and continued to eat. He continued to look at Meera as she sharpened her dagger and thought of how she made him feel. Someone with his path of life couldn't feel the way he felt towards someone; he seen what happens generation after generation and _it scared him_.

.

Bran sat in his small chambers at Castle Black next to the fire place. He was going to warg into a raven at Oldtown. He needed Samwell to find a certain book that had knowledge pertaining to Dragonstone and the mountain of dragonglass underneath it. Bran took a breath and rolled his eyes into his head; immediately he felt a shock go through him as his soul entered a raven. It was exhilarating and the strongest emotion that he had ever felt in his life; simply liberating. As a bird his senses were heightened—mostly his vision, but mostly he enjoyed the feeling of the wind under his wings. He flew through the cold night and entered the Conclave—none of it was new to him as he'd been there before, in this year and years before. He went through the tall tan halls barely lit with torches and found the library. He flew as quietly as he could as to not wake any of the maesters and he was careful to not be seen by any tutors. He went through the aisles of the library until he found the book labeled: 'Dragonstone and the Westerosi Targaryens'. He flapped his wings and grabbed the book by the claws on his feet. He pulled the book and flew it down more halls until he reached the place where Samwell was resting. He dropped the book at the foot of his cot and flew the raven back into the night, before returning to his crippled body alone by the fire.

 _It is up to you now._

 _…_

Next time: Bran grows closer to Meera. Bran has a confrontation.


	7. The Lady She is Now

**SANSA**

"The Lady She is Now"

"Daenerys Targaryen has arrived at Dragonstone.", Jon said to the Lords and Ladies of the North. He sat in a black fur coat with his hair pulled back into a bun. Sansa sat to his right in a black tunic with cream fur along the seam. The fur had tinges of copper colored hairs to the ends. Draping down her neck was her needle necklace—her hair draped down the sides of it in loose waves. She decided to have half of her hair braided back into a ponytail to honor her Mother on this day.

"So, we've heard.", Lady Mormont relayed. The rest of the Lords and Ladies including Lord Royce, Lord Umber, and Lady Castark nodded or responded with 'Aye'. Brienne and Ser Davos were also among them in the Great Hall. Though they acknowledged the statement they were not pleased to hear it. Sansa shifted in her seat and scanned the room. She was worried of how they would receive the news, but more importantly of how Jon would respond to their reactions.

"Samwell Tarly—a trusted friend of mine sent a passage from a book in the Conclave of the Citadel. And in that passage, it described a mountain of dragonglass buried within Dragonstone. I have already explained the dire need for dragonglass in the battle to come and we cannot afford to pass up this opportunity.", Jon relayed. Sansa could tell he was trying his best to ease the Northerners into the idea of brokering a deal with the Dragon Queen, but cringed at the response he would get. She knew he would have to stay affirmative or the noble born would try to override his authority.

"My King, we hear you loud and clear but what is it you are asking of us?", Lord Royce asked. The others questioned as well with confused glares. Sansa glanced up at Jon and though she knew he wasn't paying her any mind she hoped he would feel her support.

"I ask of you nothing, but I am telling you that someone must go South to meet with her and come to an agreement."

"Surely you aren't speaking of yourself, my King. We are discussing meeting with the daughter of a madman!", Lady Mormont refuted.

"Need us forget her three full grown dragons and army of Dothraki and Unsullied!", Lord Royce contributed.

"Aye!", the rest of the Northern noble born yelled.

"Silence! Daenerys Targaryen should not be judged by her Father's mistakes as I neither. Do not forget that your King that you chose is a bastard. Now I will not go South as my Father has before me—I will stay here in my Kingdom with my people! However, I need a representative to go South for me and to make a deal with Daenerys. It needs to be someone trustworthy and confident—someone who will have the North's best interests in mind.", Jon exclaimed. Sansa was proud at him for owning his title and for being a smarter man than he once was. She took a breath and stood out of her seat.

"That person should be me. I am a noble born, daughter of Ned Stark himself. Who better than me to keep the North's interests at heart? Lady Brienne can be my escort on the excursion.", Sansa proclaimed. She clenched her fingers into her palms and focused on her breathing as the noble born began to stir; she couldn't tell if they were in agreeance or if they were disagreeing. To her left she felt the heat of Jon's brown eyes on her face.

"Aye!", the noble born yelled. Sansa glanced down and couldn't help but to smirk. The glory felt good to her—natural even. She drew another breath whenever Jon's chair went backwards, and he stood beside her. The people went silent.

"I couldn't think of a better person than my sister to complete this task. Aye!", Jon yelled. Sansa smiled as Jon grabbed her hand and squeezed it. Brienne grinned as well as she made eye contact with Sansa from across the room.

.

"Maester Wolkan sent the raven to Dragonstone alerting your arrival.", Jon relayed to Sansa. They were standing outside of Sansa's wooden cart that would escort her to the port. Brienne wasn't far as she was feeding the horses and packing food for the trip.

"Very well. You know I didn't expect you to support my decision."

"At first, I didn't because I was afraid, but then I remembered how strong you are. Plus, you're usually the smartest person in the room.", Jon said. He patted her on the back and smiled at her.

"I suppose so.", Sansa responded lowly.

"Don't doubt yourself just because I have. I have faith in you sister."

"Thank you. I have faith in you as well, especially after today. You can be smart too."

"Oh really, haha. Come here.", Jon said before embracing her in a hug. Sansa gripped him tight as she knew she would be gone for a while. "Come back in one peace, will ya'?"

"Ye-yeah.", Sansa said. She took a breath into the hug and closed her eyes before removing her arms from around him. "Don't worry Tyrion will be there as well. He has always been kind to me."

"Of course, send him my regards… Alright you'd better be off before nightfall.", Jon said while backing away.

"Yeah. See you."

"See you.", Jon replied. He walked away back into the Great Hall and made one last glance back at Sansa.

"My Lady, the cart is ready.", Brienne proclaimed while holding the cart door open for Sansa. Sansa took a shaky breath and entered the cart.

.

It was three days before the two finally reached the port at White Harbour. They boarded their ship with haste and were now sailing to Dragonstone. Brienne had told Sansa that to her knowledge it took about a sennight to reach the island. Sansa dreaded the journey as she hated the putrid smells of ships and salt water, but knew it was necessary. The two were below deck—Sansa on a cot, Brienne in a hammock of sorts by a barrel. The ship was swaying back and forth as the wind had picked up.

"Brienne have you ever been in love?", Sansa asked. She was bored and always wondered if Brienne had a secret suitor.

"My Lady. Excuse me, but I can't seem to find the importance of the question."

"Relax. It isn't important to me, but I was curious on the matter. You don't have to speak his name—or her.", Sansa relayed. She smirked as she watched Brienne shift in her hammock.

"Well… I guess I believe so. I can assure you he is a man, but I suppose it doesn't matter."

"Why not?", Sansa asked.

"It wouldn't work and I'm not even sure if he'd want me.", Brienne said. She held her head down and looked at her hands. Sansa was pretty sure she was speaking of Jaime Lannister and genuinely felt sorry for her because it could never work. Brienne was right about that, but Sansa still felt bad for her.

"Well he would be a fool if he didn't. You're beautiful too Brienne. Not in the way that you are thinking, but the way you can move your body in battles and your devotion to vows is very admirable."

"Thank you, my Lady.", Brienne replied shocked. Sansa nodded. "Have you?"

"Oh no. I thought so once, but I was naïve and weak then. One day I suppose I will fall in love, but not now. I can't really trust men to that capacity, not after what I have witnessed…", Sansa answered. She began to think of Joffrey and Ramsay. Petyr even too.

"I'm sorry, my Lady. If only I had gotten to you before."

Sansa paused at her comment and really considered if she would have wanted that; she decided not. "Don't be. Without them I wouldn't be strong enough.", Sansa said. She picked up her needle pendant and gripped it as she thought of her many traumatic experiences. Not all of them were from men, but also from women such as her psychotic aunt Lysa and more importantly from Cersei. Even then not all of her experiences with Cersei were traumatic. She learned a great deal from her as well. Sansa began to think of her many lessons from Cersei. She thought particularly of a conversation they had in the colorful gardens of the Red Keep. The sun was beaming down and there was the perfect breeze. Cersei's golden hair flowed in the wind and she had on a pink kimono styled tunic. Cersei told her that a weak man could never control a strong lady because he wouldn't know what to do with her. "Without her I wouldn't be the lady I am now."

…

Next time: Sansa goes home with a proposal. She is reminded of her childhood.

 _Guys thanks for reading! Now I will start rotating between the POV's of the characters. Also, there is a pretty big chapter coming up and I'm sure you guys will love it. Stay tuned! Please review—I'd really like to hear your thoughts and any ideas. : )_


	8. The Dragon, the Lion, & the Wolf

**DAENERYS**

"The Dragon, the Lion, & the Wolf "

Daenerys was standing outside at the bay of Meereen. Her fleet of ships courtesy of the Greyjoy siblings were finished being boarded. A good portion of both her armies would be joining her, but not all as she would have to maintain control over Dragon Bay. She stood there in a black leather dress, her hair braided back into an elegant tri-braid ponytail with two tendrils of platinum blonde hair exposed on each side of her small head. She was absorbing the heat of the Essos sun as she knew winter was coming in Westeros. Her handmaidens had prepared numerous beautiful dresses with sleeves and matching pants for the colder climate. Tyrion, Missandei, and Torgo Nudho (Grey Worm) already boarded the royal ship and were waiting for her arrival to sail out across the Narrow Sea. Her children each had a ship of their own with docks large enough for them to rest as they would not fly the entire way. The ships were also prepared with water and sheep for them to eat—sure they could fish but Daenerys knew her children enjoyed sheep the best. At least Drogon and Rhaegal did, Viserion enjoyed cattle the most—though it wasn't abundant to come by.

Daenerys looked out at her fleet each with banners for the Greyjoy kraken and the Targaryen Dragon. She smiled at the ships and thought of how it was the true beginning to her journey to the Iron Throne. It scared her as much as the thought freed her. She worried that the throne wouldn't give her the happiness she desperately wanted—no needed. She was also reminded of those she left behind on her journey—Ser Jorah, Ser Barristan, Rhaego, and Drogo. She prayed to the Gods that Jorah found a cure or was still out there searching for one; her eyes watered at the thought. She even pondered on her people in Dragon Bay because she grew close to them and it felt as if she was abandoning them. That is why she left Daario as King of Meereen—she knew he would carry out her wishes and would allow Westeros and Essos to have more relations. Possibly even a festival that would alternate between continents. Daenerys smiled at the thought. She decided to push the thoughts out of her head and to focus on her people who were suffering under the hand of Cersei Lannister—her true enemy. She needed to be a dragon and dragons don't shy away at the roar of a lion. They eat them. She will take her throne—with fire and blood if she had too.

"Anna khalessi jin fleet ajjin ha yer.", one of her bloodriders told her. His name was Kono and he was particularly tall, with a black braid that went to the middle of his back. He was telling her that the fleet was waiting on her to board. Daenerys smiled at him before pondering. She decided that she wanted to ride Rhaegal instead of boarding the ship right away. She needed the time to be alone and to think.

"Qoy qoy stat eyak anha tikh dothralat rhaegal. Mori ishish elat.", Daenerys replied. She told him to tell the others to go ahead; she would be riding Rhaegal. Kono smirked and turned away before mounting his brown horse. He rode off to his brothers and told them.

Daenerys closed her eyes and thought of her children. She focused on her breathing and the feeling of wanting them near. Soon after, she heard their voices—Drogon first, then Viserion and Rhaegal. She saw them come around the Great Pyramid, the sun glistening off of their scales. Drogon lead them and she landed first on the sand. (Daenerys couldn't know for sure as dragons were known to change sex, but she could sense Drogon was a girl. Her size and her aggressiveness were slight indications.) Drogon leaned her massive head down and Daenerys put her palm on her snout as she smiled. Viserion and Rhaegal became jealous and exhaled loudly as they leaned their smaller heads in for a pet. Daenerys patted them both on their snouts and smiled while squinting her blue eyes.

"Vaoreznuni ao lanta, nyke kessa kipagon Rhaigal tubi. _Sorry you two but I shall ride Rhaegal today_.", Daenerys said to them. She spoke Valyrian to them as it only seemed natural. Rhaegal could sense she wanted to mount him, so he leaned his left wing and neck down for her to climb on. Daenerys gripped one of his horns on the side of his neck and put her foot onto the rubbery flesh of his wing. Dragon horns felt hard and rough against her smooth palms, but she wore fingerless gloves as to not irritate her hands. She threw her other leg around his wide neck and pulled onto two large slightly green horns in front of her body. Rhaegal took that as his signal to fly—so he did. Daenerys held her breath as he started off in a run before flapping his massive wings that sent gusts of wind in her face. She took a breath when they were gliding above her fleet and flew off leaving the sun setting behind her.

.

There it was—her birthplace. Daenerys and her fleet had been sailing for a little longer than a sennight. It had been a ruthless sennight as the Dothraki had never sailed before so they became very sick. Daenerys herself did not enjoy the excursion either.

Daenerys and her court were boarded onto a canoe to reach the shore. No one spoke to her, not even Tyrion and she said nothing. She wanted to absorb every moment of her home—the same home she was forced to flee when she was just a babe. She stepped onto the damp sand and felt the heel of her boot sink into the sand a little. She walked further up the shore and heard her children fly around the castle before landing on one of the salt formed mountains. They let out a soft roar as if they knew it was their Mother's birthplace. Daenerys looked at the massive gray structures before her in awe.

Daenerys made her way up the long stone stair case. There were dragonheads every couple of steps engraved into the side of the stone. It felt so natural for her to be immersed into the midst of them and she could feel her family's energy present. Finally, she made it to the large doors and pushed them open. The doors creaked, and dust stirred as they opened. Sun rays shined into the opening revealing the dark gray castle's halls. Hanging before Daenerys was a flaming heart around a stag on a banner. She knew it belonged to Stannis Baratheon and smirked as she yanked it down. Daenerys turned the corner and walked into the empty throne room. It was bare with the exception of a black salt-stone throne. The stone was formed into a diagonal slated shape. Daenerys walked up to it and sat down. It felt hard, but she didn't mind. She glanced down and then up to her advisors.

"Shall we begin?"

.

"Your grace, the court has all arrived along with your special guest.", Tyrion said to Daenerys. She was sitting in her private chambers. She thought of Sansa Stark—her special guest. Tyrion told her that she was a tender hearted girl that was trapped South with Cersei for years. He told her of their marriage to which Daenerys cringed at the thought of a fourteen-year-old being married to someone many years older than her. She wouldn't allow that in her rule. She also knew of Sansa's family being slaughtered and her home being taken from her. To put it simply, Daenerys felt for the girl because she also experienced the same things. However, Daenerys knew Sansa would not be the same young girl that Tyrion knew her to be; not after what she has seen.

"Shall we?", Daenerys said while leading the way. She already greeted Ellaria Sand, and Yara Greyjoy as they had been there for a couple of nights. Today Lady Olenna and Sansa Stark arrived. Varys would be there as well.

.

"My Ladies and Lords I have gathered you here so that my Lord Hand can explain our plan to take back the Iron Throne. I thank you all for commuting here and I am confident that with our great kingdoms unified as one for hope, that we will lead Westeros into a greater era.", Daenerys said. They were sitting in the small council room that overlooked the coast of Dragonstone. Daenerys stood along with Tyrion in front of the dark table of Westeros. Lady Olenna, Yara, Varys, Ellaria, Lady Missandei, and Torgo Nudho all sat around the table in that order. Sansa would not be joining the meeting as she said she would not intrude and did not plan on taking any oaths to Daenerys.

"Well it's good to see that my time here hasn't been wasted. Very good speech, your grace. However, we aren't the people you need to give the speech too and don't tell me that you expect us to tell our people to support you. Sure, they are sheep to be lead, but they are not blind. Do not forget that the Reach supported the Baratheons in their siege against your Father and for good cause too.", Lady Olenna spoke. She maintained full eye contact with Daenerys. She had her head and chin wrapped in gold silk. Her headdress and her robe were both black due to her grieving the loss of her family. Daenerys stirred and paused with a one-sided smirk. Tyrion fiddled with his fingers and looked up to Daenerys. Everyone else sat in silence.

"Lady Olenna, the Queen of Thorns you are. I can assure you I am not my Father. I have come here to be home and to take what was ripped from my family's grasp. No doubt, my Father was an evil man. This is why I plan on visiting each of your Kingdoms with my court, so the people know my face. I will also marry a noble man in Westeros. Does that appease you?", Daenerys asked. Lady Olenna smirked and nodded.

"My Lords and Ladies now that we have addressed th—that, we can discuss our actual plan of action. As for the Iron fleet we will have half of your ships escort 1,000 of the Unsullied to the Iron Islands to take them back in our Queen's name. The other half of your fleet will be used to escort the Dornish army to Lannisport. We cannot hope to get the people to surrender if we do not sieze Cersei's other seat.", Tyrion started. He could feel the tension in the room, so he tried his best to mitigate it.

"Nice of you to volunteer my army without my consent.", Ellaria responded in her Dornish accent. Her black hair was loose and she wore an orange gown with red seams.

"Please, Cersei is planning to attack Dorne as we speak. That would be your best bet to move the men you do have. Though the Dornish army have never been the best in warfare.", Lady Olenna said with a soft chuckle.

"Neither have the soldiers of Highgarden. Besides how would you know that?", Ellaria replied. She inched forward to Lady Olenna.

"Because you took her daughter—her only daughter from her. So, you should expect the mother's wrath to follow you wherever and I mean wherever you go."

"Why do you think I'm here?", Ellaria asked. Lady Olenna simply glared.

"Ugh um, ladies may we stay on task?", Tyrion interrupted.

"Your grace.", Ellaria replied. She surrendered by sitting further back into her wooden chair.

"Of course.", Lady Olenna replied.

"Your grace, the Iron fleet will serve whatever purpose you have for it.", Yara contributed. She was sitting comfortably in her chair with a dark blue cloak on and black pants. Her heavy boots could be heard anytime she shifted in her seat, which was often.

"Thank you Yara. You will be rewarded I can assure you that.", Daenerys responded. Yara winked at her, to which Daenerys smirked at her. Lady Missandei who watched the entire thing take place smiled as well.

"Ugh um so back to the plan. Our Queen wishes to not resort to the use of her children, unless it is necessary.", Tyrion started.

"Necessary meaning?", Lady Olenna asked. Yara and the others glanced to Daenerys.

"If I am losing the war then I will have no other choice.", Daenerys responded. She kept a blank face as it was no joke and she was speaking her truth. The others surrendered, but all hoped to not see the destruction three dragons could bring.

"The endgame is that the bulk of the Dothraki bloodriders will be used to surround King's Landing and the plan is that the people will turn against Cersei and open the gates.", Tyrion finished. Torgo Nudho and Lady Missandei sat in silence as they already knew the plan. The others were in silence as well.

"Is everyone in agreeance?", Daenerys asked. She couldn't tell if their silence was a good thing or a bad thing. She gripped the helm of her dress as she looked at all of them.

"Yes.", Yara replied. The others followed suit by nodding.

"Okay I look forward to making this as quick as possible. I will not keep you any longer.", Daenerys finished. She turned her back and went to the balcony to look at her children who were sun bathing on the beach. She listened as she heard conversing and finally the chairs moving as they started to leave. She turned back around and looked at Lady Olenna who still sat in her seat.

"Lady Olenna may I have a word?", Daenerys asked. Lady Olenna who stood out of her seat sat again after Daenerys took her seat directly in front of her.

"Your grace."

"I have this for you. Your grandchildren—they are alive.", Daenerys replied. She handed Lady Olenna the parchment she received nights before. Lady Olenna paused and read the parchment. Daenerys was silent as she watched the woman's hands start to shake. She put her hand up to her head and stood immediately.

"I apologize, but I must get back to the reach. Thank you."

"Of course. Good travels, I look forward to meeting them soon.", Daenerys said. She knew that the woman wasn't exactly paying any attention to her comments, but she still wanted to be cordial to her ally. Daenerys also grew fond of her remarks and thinking.

"Your grace.", Lady Olenna said before walking away.

"Your grace, she will respect you always for you being the one to give her the news of her grandchildren.", Varys stated. He reentered the room once Lady Olenna left. Daenerys glanced up at him with her eyebrows clenched.

"Yes, I suppose so. It is a good thing you were here to give the parchment."

"Well of course, your grace."

"Lord Varys you have served how many monarchs before me?"

"Four. I'm sorry I can't seem to understand why you asked. I swore an oath to serve you."

"As you have the other four. Now Tyrion told me that you serve the realm. What exactly does that mean?"

"It means—"

"It seems to me that it is an excuse to only serve yourself. To fulfill the desires of what you see fit. I know that you gave the order to have me assassinated…", Daenerys interrupted.

"Your grace I can assure you that I had no other choice, but I also sent out another raven to Magister Illyrio to notify our spy, Ser Jorah."

"Hm. I don't know if I believe you. I know I most certainly can never trust you—not completely, but I do need you. You knew my enemy so at the very least you can offer me that."

"Daenerys you are my Queen… Ever since you and your brother were babes, the Magister and I have swore to protect you because we knew that Robert Baratheon could never be the King the realm needed. I swear to you that I will serve you and only you.", Varys said. His voice was full of emotion, but yet Daenerys couldn't believe his words.

"I hear your oaths, but yet I still don't believe you. Maybe I will one day.", Daenerys stated. She looked past Varys' bare head and stared at the stone wall behind him.

"What is it you want me to do, your grace?", he asked. His brown eyes were full of concern.

"I want you to leave for now. Go and find me a Maester, one who will not only serve knowledge but who will serve it with purpose."

"Very well, your grace.", Varys stated before turning around to leave.

"Oh, and Lord Varys send my guest in on your way out."

.

"Lady Sansa so very nice to meet you. You are a northern beauty.", Daenerys started. She observed the girl with her beautiful auburn hair. Her hair showed different copper hues in her loose waves. Sansa paused at her words because those same words were spoken about her from Cersei.

"Nice to meet you as well. I hope you don't mind that Lady Brienne is outside the room."

"It is fine, my guards are out there as well. Now what have you come here for? It surprised me that you wouldn't be joining my council meeting."

"No, I would never intrude on such a meeting after all I did not come to swear fealty to you."

"Then what is it you have come for?", Daenerys asked. Her smile faded as she looked into Sansa's blue eyes.

"I have come under my brother—King Jon of the North's orders. I'm not sure if you know or not, but there is a mountain of dragonglass buried beneath Dragonstone. My brother wishes for you to allow Northernmen to excavate it, in return for lumber."

"What is the importance of this dragonglass that you speak of? I can't say that I am familiar with it.", Daenerys asked perplexed.

"Well it is a substance that we require for the North. It has special properties useful to us."

"For what purpose?"

"I—war"

"War?", Daenerys asked. She felt her blue eyes get big as she glared at Sansa. Surely the North didn't intend on fighting against her rule.

"I can assure you, not any war dealing with Southern issues.", Sansa retreated.

"Ah I see. Well I suppose I could allow it as I need relations in the North besides the horrible tales of my Father… Describe your brother to me."

"My brother?"

"Yes—tell me about his virtues and the things he has done to become King."

"Well I can't seem to find the importance in discussing him.", Sansa refuted.

"I plan on wedding a noble man in Westeros. I need to have another relation to Westerosi culture as I was not raised here."

"I don't think the King wants to marry someone who he is not in love with. He is a man of honor and a man of duty. However, he will always put his family and honor before his duties. In that order.", Sansa replied.

"So, you would say that he is just and honorable. Do the people support him?"

"Yes. He unified the wildlings into one group and allowed them South of the wall to live in our boarders. This was something that had never been done in history. He also took back Winterfell in our family's name after it was taken from us."

"He seems like quite the man. Lady Sansa I will trade the dragonglass with the North as long as your brother accepts my wedding proposal. I will even have my men excavate it and deliver it to the North myself."

"That's all you ask?"

"Well and if your forces help me, I will help the North in your battle with whoever the threat may be.", Daenerys responded.

"Well I can't make any promises as my brother rarely listens to me, but I can propose the idea to him."

"Do I have your support at the least?", Daenerys asked. She leaned her head forward to look Sansa in the eyes. Sansa started to respond and stopped to look down.

"I'm sorry this is all a bit much. You see my mother was in the same predicament as me, before. Well not with a monarch, but she arranged a marriage between a Lady and my brother who was King in the North at the time. It all seems a bit odd…"

"Lady Sansa I can assure you that Cersei will suffer for the pain she has caused the Stark name. We cannot allow her to sit on the Iron Throne any longer."

"You have my support.", Sansa stated. Daenerys squinted her eyes and smiled at her. Sansa returned the smile.

"Very well. With your brother as my King, that leaves you as Queen in the North to rule over Winterfell and all the noble houses there.", Daenerys stated. She watched as Sansa's smile faded. In Sansa's mind she felt as if Daenerys was attempting to manipulate her so she decided to address it.

"What are your intentions with the North?", Sansa asked. Daenerys paused and pondered on what they really were.

"I have no intentions with the North. The North seems to do fine ruling itself. Of course, I intend to keep it a part of the seven kingdoms, but only in trade."

"Very well.", Sansa responded. She wasn't sure if she truly believed her words and she was sure Daenerys could sense her hesitation. Sansa wouldn't allow herself to be manipulated anymore, but she knew that Daenerys had the resources she needed. She decided to be as cordial as she could.

"One last topic before I go to my children. Was Tyrion kind to you during your marriage?"

"Of course. He was nothing, but kind. If you are asking if I believe he is trustworthy, I would say yes. Just keep him from the wine if you can.", Sansa responded with a smile. Daenerys smiled back. Sansa thought of her first encounter with him earlier and how he made a joke about their marriage. It was a nice conversation, but Sansa knew he could tell she grew a lot since he last saw her.

"I'll try. I look forward to having another conversation with you Lady Sansa. Hopefully with lighter topics.", Daenerys responded while walking out of the room.

…

Next time: Daenerys makes her arrangements for the North. She tests Varys once more.


	9. A Song of Peace & Destruction

**JON**

"A Song of Peace & Destruction"

Jon walked through the Godswood and thought of how peaceful it was. He never failed to observe the pale tree with it's dark auburn leaves and how they contrasted with the white snow on the ground. Even the evergreen trees contrasted with the copper tones of the leaves. The sap escaping the eyes of the tree never scared him but was always mysterious. Why was the tree in sorrow? He pondered on his family and how the place was a sanctuary for them. He thought of Sansa and how he missed her. He had received a raven earlier of her departure back to the North. There were no other details besides an arrangement had been made and that Sansa would bring the details. He thought about what that arrangement could mean. He also received a parchment of details about Lannister forces moving North. Jon was being pushed into a position that he didn't want to be in. He fought one war and didn't plan on fighting two more. His people needed their resources for the true war to come not a miniscule war over bad blood.

Maybe it was his paranoia, but Jon knew that the Night King would not stop until he successfully made it South for whatever purpose he had. Death didn't stop for anyone or anything; it comes for all. Jon would make sure at the least that his people would be prepared as they would be the first to encounter the threat, so it wasn't as if they had a choice in the matter. Yet Jon called his banners—most importantly the Knights of the Vale as they were his strongest allies. Lord Robyn responded with haste and was sending the majority of his forces in which they would arrive on par with the Lannister forces. Jon had the walls prepared with chunks of boulders and arrows ready to be shot. He also made arrangements for the women and children who would be seeking refuge in the Castark stronghold. Jon wouldn't risk their lives in the crypts even if he didn't anticipate any soldiers getting within the walls of Winterfell. His father always said that Winterfell could withstand a siege against 10,000 soldiers with 100 men.

Jon stood peacefully until two of his guards yelled for him. Jon abruptly turned and looked at them.

"My King you must come right away!", the shorter one yelled.

"We have a prisoner from the Lannister forces.", the other responded. They both were out of breath as they ran to him. Jon followed them to the Great Hall which was empty at the midday hour with the exception of cooks. Jon immediately saw a tall lean man with shaggy brown hair and wide green eyes. He then saw a rope in his hand leading to another man in gold armor. His head was bleeding and he sat tied up, hunched over.

"What is the meaning of this?", Jon asked glancing down to the hostage. As he stood closer he was able to identify a lion on his chest plate. Jon noticed that the tall man was staring at him, looking at him right into his eyes.

"My King I have brought you a hostage. I'm sure you would like to hear his details on the Lannister plan of attack. They are quite interesting.", the man responded. Jon nodded to him.

"Your name?", Jon asked. The man walked up to him within one meter and grabbed Jon's arm.

"I'm Toran.", he responded with a firm grip. Jon returned the grip and patted him on his back. Jon just met Toran and felt a connection with him already. He reminded him of Robb.

"Alright he will be my prisoner. Guards take him to the cells. Toran, let us go to the library to discuss the details."

"Of course, my King.", Toran responded.

.

"I should have known.", Jon responded. He just learned that the Knights of the Vale would be leading the attack with the Lannister army. Jon forgot to breathe, he was so upset. He walked a couple of steps away and took a breath. He felt like a fool for not executing Petyr Baelish when he had the chance; he knew he couldn't trust him and now he would have to deal with double the forces he wasn't expecting. He finally turned to Toran who looked calm.

"My King, don't blame yourself you couldn't have known. The important thing is that you do now." He walked up to Jon and put his hand on his shoulder. Jon glanced down and turned the corners of his lips slightly. "What will you do?"

"I will have to keep the walls armed, but move our forces outside the walls to attack them from behind. We will attack them in waves—one Northernman can take fifteen of any southern soldier. It's the only way we stand a chance because otherwise we don't have the resources to hold off their men.", Jon responded. Toran moved his arm and turned in thought.

"That sounds like a solid plan, my King. I couldn't of thought of a better plan myself.", Toran responded. "Now what do you say we get drunk and celebrate before we possibly die tomorrow?"

Jon looked at Toran's lazy smile and smiled back. For some reason he actually decided it was a good idea as he knew it would lift his men's spirits. "Why not?", he relayed while patting Toran on the back. He walked away into the halls to make preparations for the festivities.

.

Jon had the Great Hall lit with many candles, singers were filling the open space with melodies about conquest and defending the North. Platters and bowls of food were all over the tables, along with mugs full of ale and wine. Jon sat at the head table along with Ser Davos and Toran. Umber forces amongst other noble men were not far discussing their dying wishes.

Jon was on his third mug of ale while Toran was on his fourth. "Catch up.", Toran demanded. Jon shook his head and smirked. He was really growing fond of Toran.

"I'm afraid I cannot.", Jon slurred. He smiled with his eyes squinted. Toran picked up the container holding the ale and found it was empty, so he took the pitcher full of wine and poured it into Jon's mug.

"To my King.", Toran said. He chuckled.

"Aye.", Ser Davos contributed. "To King Jon of the North!"

"Aye!" filled the Great Hall. Most of the voices were slurred. Soon after a portion of the men finished their mugs and headed off to the brothels.

Jon stood up—too fast for comfort and leaned over the table. "I have to piss."

"Aye. I will escort the King outside for his piss.", Toran slurred as well. He lead the way outside into the night. Jon noticed that he had two sheaths strapped on his lower back with two long daggers as he walked in front of him. The moon casted a glow onto the snow-capped ground. Both of their breath could be seen exhaling out of their mouths. Toran stood watching men stumble out of the dim lit brothels across the courtyard while Jon pissed into a shrub.

"My King?", Toran asked.

Jon came around the corner and stumbled over to him. "I have pissed. Haha."

"That is great."

"You know even though I don't know much about you—you are a great man. I look forward to our futures together.", Jon relayed.

"Thank you, my King. It seems you have had too much to drink.", Toran responded with a smirk. He turned to Jon. "Jon I need to show you something."

Jon turned his head and glared at Toran as his entire demeanor changed. "What is it?"

Toran leaned his head forward towards the ground and put his fingers to the bridge of his nose. Then he pulled; Jon watched as his fingers pulled off his face in a quick manner. Jon immediately took a couple of steps back and rubbed his eyes before opening them. Before him stood a short girl with shoulder length brown hair and wide blue eyes. He closed his eyes again and opened them.

"You're right, I think I have had too much.", Jon said. His eyes still showed him a short girl in the same place where Toran once stood. The girl walked closer to him and gave him a look of sorrow.

"Jon it's me.", the girl said. In that moment when he heard her voice Jon knew it was his little sister who he thought he lost years ago: Arya.

 **ARYA**

"Arya!", Jon yelled while embracing her. Arya gripped him tight while embracing him back. Jon sobered himself instantly.

"I've missed you. I promise I would have come sooner if I knew you had taken back Winterfell.", Arya said into is black fur coat.

"Sister where have you been? What you just did—are you?", Jon asked. He backed away to see his sister's face. Arya glanced down and smiled.

"Yes, I'm a faceless man now. After Father, I was with many others, but my final destination was Braavos with the Faceless Men. I trained with them for years.", Arya responded. She thought of Jaqen and life in Braavos. She completed her training into becoming 'no one', but she chose to be a girl who was Arya Stark because she had unfinished business. A contract with names that she would cross off and devote them to the Many-Faced God. Now that she knew her family was alive she wasn't entirely sure of what that meant after when she finished her list. She decided to focus on the present.

"What?! My sister is a faceless man. I always knew you would complete your training as a soldier.", Jon relayed while sizing her up.

"Compared to you—a King. It's little to nothing."

"No of course not.", Jon responded. Arya looked at him and knew he was telling the truth. Suddenly she remembered Sansa and was hesitant to even ask.

"Sansa?"

"She's fine!", Jon answered.

"I'm glad to hear. Where is she?"

"She met with the Daenerys Targaryen in Dragonstone. She should be sailing back now.", Jon responded. Arya's eyes became wide. Arya always wanted to see a dragon and now she might get the chance.

"The Dragon Queen?", she asked. Jon nodded.

"It's a bit of a long story.", Jon relayed.

"I have time." Arya listened to Jon explain everything about the dragonglass to valyrian steel and the Night King and his army. She didn't know what to say at first, but little surprised her anymore and death definitely didn't. She stared at him.

"Well first we should worry about our immediate enemy."

"You're right… Did you really support my plan earlier?", Jon asked.

"Of course Jon. You are a good strategist.", Arya relayed.

"So why did you wait before showing me who you really were?", Jon asked perplexed. Arya stared at him and thought about why she waited so long. In her mind she didn't want Jon to look at her like his little sister, but an equal.

"I didn't want you to see me as your fragile little sister. I wanted to enjoy time together as strangers to see if you were the same…It was also the easiest way to show you my abilities now."

"Am I the same?"

"No. Am I?"

"No.", Jon replied with a smile. Arya returned it. She looked around her and took a deep breath. Inhaling the Northern scents of Winterfell—her home. It brought back many memories to her of her family.

"Bran—Rickon?", she asked. Jon became restricted.

"Dead. I watched Rickon die at the Battle of the Bastards. I could have saved him if I just would have gotten to him sooner. I—", Jon started.

"No, you couldn't have. Death can't be stopped when it is given a name.", Arya interrupted.

"It can.", Jon responded. He held his left arm to his chest. Arya watched the mannerism and became curious as to what he meant. She knew he was speaking his truth. "Another time."

"Okay."

"Wait so the Freys? That was you?", Jon asked.

"Yes." Arya waited for him to respond.

"You're amazing little sister."

"Thank you, my King."

"No, you don't have to call me that. You're my family."

"I do—at least around the other nobles.", Arya stated. Arya smiled when she thought of the last time she saw Jon. "I still have needle."

"I'm glad. Here is my steel, Longclaw. It's valyrian.", Jon said while handing her his sword. She held it and handed it back to him. She admired the white wolf handle and it's length. She reached behind her back and handed him her valyrian steel daggers that were forged from the same sword known as "Reaper".

"Very nice. Not too heavy and meant for carving. They are beautiful.", Jon said. He thought of how the extra length on the daggers was useful.

"They are valyrian steel too. It's all the Faceless Men use."

"Nice, sister. Name?"

"I don't know yet.", Arya responded. She was feeling a little fatigue from wearing her mask all day. She had three wounds along her hair line where she cut herself to allow her blood to fuse the mask to her face.

"Does it hurt?"

"At first, but not for long. The thoughts are the most troubling part. The masks nearly have a mind of their own.", Arya relayed. She shivered due to the cold frigid air. She was still adjusting to the colder climate.

"Ah. Come I can show you to a nice chamber."

"I still remember my way."

"Of course.", Jon responded. He walked into the halls to go to his chamber. Arya followed behind until they reached his door. She walked up to him and hugged him. Their talk was a nice distraction from the battle that would come tomorrow. She needed to rest as she would use her mask tomorrow for more size and strength.

"See you."

"See you.", Jon responded while watching her disappear down the halls.

.

Arya and Jon now stood atop the walls of Winterfell with the Northernmen. They were looking outside of Winterfell and could see the armies approaching with Arryn and Lannister banners. The bulk of Jon's forces were hiding amongst the wood ready to attack them once the horns sounded. Jon planned to wait until the forces attempted to climb the wall with ladders. The men ahead of them creating a cloud of silver and gold armor, were waiting for their signal to charge. Arya took a breath as this was her first battle she would experience. Her face was helping her though as he had experienced two battles before his death.

"Charge!", a man yelled. Jon heard the faint sound.

"Get ready!", Jon yelled in turn. Arya got her bow and arrow ready. Soon the men on horseback were a couple hundred meters away from the wall and that's when the blood bath started. Northernmen chucked heavy rock down at the enemies cracking into their horses' heads and their own. Arya along with many others shot arrows at the horses and their men mounted on them alike. Arrows protruded through horse legs, their necks, their men's legs and heads. Men could be seen straddling horses by their saddles unconscious or dead. Soon after minutes had passed, there was a line forming of dead horses and dead men laying before the wall. Horses squealing and shrieks from dying men filled the cold morning air. Arya maintained her focus while shooting as many of them down as she could. One arrow pierced the neck of a man, another pierced the lung of another. She was doing it in a systemic manner only focused on taking down her enemy.

She began to notice the men were using wooden canoes to shield themselves from the arrows and boulders. The men underneath carried ladders and barrels. She also seen men further out setting up catapults with boulders and began to worry. She knew the boulders would cause massive damage to her home which she just got back; it angered her. She finally ran out of arrows and started to chuck rock down aiming at her enemies. She could hear Jon as he was giving commands. He was beside two young men each with cream colored horns that they would use when the time was right. He was nearly ready to have the men use them. He began to dodge arrows from the Lannister men as they shot back while avoiding arrows shot at them. There were many voices and noises to be heard—it was hard to keep focus on their foes.

Arya found more arrows and returned to shooting them. She scoped out the scene and that's when she saw a torch and became worried as it was lit directly under the wall. That's when it happened. Arya heard the loudest noise she had ever experienced; an explosion of green and heat. Wildfyre. Arya felt her body react to the force in which she flew backwards landing on a roof. She rolled off of it and hit the snow hard on her side. It knocked the air out of her. She gasped for air and tried to regain her senses as she couldn't hear. Ringing filled her ears. She heard muffled noises and saw glimpses of men. Slowly she could hear little by little. She heard men yelling "Horns!" She looked around her while laying gripping her side and saw Northernmen running around her until finally someone helped her up. She glanced up and saw Jon, but it wasn't him—it was another Northernman with a black beard.

Arya muffled 'thank you' to him until she watched him get impaled with a sword. She fell back and reached for her daggers and defended herself. Slicing the man's legs and then his throat. She stumbled behind a tower and tried to regain her balance. She peered around to attempt to find Jon.

 **JON**

When the explosion happened Jon was already on his way down the wall. His horn blowers following behind him. The steps tremored as they knelt and they heard the explosion. Chunks of the wall flew in all directions and green flames erupted from a gaping hole in it. Jon stood horrified as he had never seen that kind of destruction. He thought of Arya and scanned for her; he couldn't spot her. He prayed that she was fine. He looked around and saw his men with limbs detached—blood gushing out of their wounds writhing in agony. Jon took a breath and remembered he was their leader.

"Horns!", he yelled. The men blew the horns. He prayed the other horn blowers would hear and that his men would come. Jon watched as their enemies came pouring through the hole in the wall. Other men threw sand onto the wildfyre so that their allies could pass through unscathed. Soon after Jon had Longclaw unsheathed and to his side. He cut through men as they came after him—each desperate to gain nobility for slaying a King. Jon advanced to the center of the courtyard and looked for his sister.

"Arya!", Jon yelled. A Knight of the Vale rode up to Jon. Jon leaned out of his horse's way and cut the horse along it's flank. The horse jumped causing the knight to fall off. The knight got up and drew his sword. Jon swiped his sword and the two began fighting. The two were at a standstill whenever Jon stepped on the knight's boot and sliced his thigh. The knight fell to one knee and Jon impaled him through his chest plate. Jon put his foot to his torso to pull Longclaw out of him. Jon continued to charged forward until he finally came by Arya as Toran. She was cutting through men left and right with her twin daggers. She looked as if she was performing a dance. Jon went to her side and fought along with her. Arya would attack in a rhythm—she would cut one man's leg then his throat. Some she stabbed in the shoulder.

After fighting for a while they heard the sound of hooves and Jon hadn't been so grateful since the Battle of the Bastards. The Northernmen charged in the gates attacking their enemies. Some jumped off the horses with axes and tore through the Southern men. It wasn't long before the Northern forces were finishing off the last of the men who didn't desert the battle. It was as Jon knew: The Southern men could not take the harsh climate of the North and were ill prepared for the terrain. Their use of wildfyre gave them an edge, but they couldn't handle the strength of the Northern armies in combat. Yet Jon knew that his men suffered grave loss as well and the thought upset him.

.

Jon looked out at the courtyard and saw the snow with patches of blood that seeped into it. His men were still collecting the dead and putting them in piles to be burned. He dreaded whenever the people of Winterfell returned and saw the destruction. They would also come back to broken families. He felt like a failure of a King. Arya had gone outside of the walls and hunted down Petyr Baelish who attempted to flee. He now sat in a cell waiting to be executed for his crimes against the Vale and Winterfell.

"Bring him to the courtyard.", Jon stated grimly. Even though he wanted Petyr dead—he hated that he had to do it publicly. Jon unsheathed Longclaw and walked to the wooden stump that was prepared for Petyr. Soon after his guards brought Petyr Baelish to him on his knees. His face was bruised, and he smirked.

"Where's Sansa?", he asked.

"I, King Jon of the North sentence you, Petyr Baelish to die for the crimes of treason, murder, and conspiring to murder. Do you have any final words?", Jon stated. His men were gathered in the courtyard and watched in silence. Jon had the guards push his head down onto the stump. It was in that moment Petyr's fate sunk into him. Petyr began to shake and panic as his façade shattered. He was a coward.

"Sansa is she here? Sansa I love you!", Petyr yelled. He attempted to lift his head to search the courtyard for Sansa, but couldn't as his head was being held down. "Don't let her see!" Jon stood erect and drew his sword above Petyr's neck before swinging down through his flesh and bone. Jon wiped off his blade, sheathed Longclaw and walked away.

.

"In his own twisted way I truly believe he cared for Sansa.", Jon stated. Arya and Jon were enjoying ale in his private chambers. It was the night after the battle.

"I'm sure he did, but it doesn't justify his actions."

"I know, just a thought."

"You shouldn't feel bad—it was necessary.", Arya stated.

"Yeah."

"It's okay Jon—you're not a killer. I know killers and you aren't one." Jon nodded before taking a swig out of his mug. "What do you think are the terms of the Dragon Queen's arrangement?"

"I don't know—lumber I would hope.", Jon replied.

"I doubt that… You trust Sansa to discuss arrangements of that capacity?", Arya asked. She found it funny that the two were even cordial as Sansa was usually mean to Jon.

"Yes. She has changed a lot—definitely not the same lady that she used to be.", Jon answered. Arya smiled at the thought and thought of her last encounter with Sansa.

"Catch up."

…

Next time: Arya is reunited with an old friend and makes arrangements. Jon meets his match.


	10. To Kindle the Fire

**MARGAERY**

"To Kindle the Fire"

"Loras do you think Ser Daeron fancies me?", Margaery asked her brother. The pair were sitting on a balcony of Royal Tower—the tallest tower in Highgarden. The balcony was filled with vibrant tulips, red roses, vinery, and grapes. There was a harp player and a singer at the edge of the balcony filling the air with soothing sounds. The air was warm and moist; the sounds of birds chirping and bugs flying around also could be heard. Margaery and Loras sat at a table looking out at the golden fields of the Reach, enjoying lunch. The lunch consisted of bread, cheese, and fruit. Dornish wine was also atop the table.

"I don't know. He is a knight after all.", Loras responded. Margaery glanced at him with her piercing blue eyes and smiled. She was slowly getting her brother back, but she knew he would never be the same. Neither would she. He had a golden silk headband wrapped around his scar and his curly brown bangs draped down it. It had become his signature look and the people of Highgarden found it endearing. Soon after their arrival a grand festival was held and boys aspiring to be knights filled the roads with headbands also wrapped around their heads. It was a great event, but the two were not in their right minds for it. They also expected their grandmother to be there at the gates, though they knew of her meeting. The important thing is that her grandmother was on her way back now as Maester Lomys had received a message from Daenerys Targaryen. The message also relayed that Daenerys was bringing her court to Highgarden. Margaery was preparing the castle for her arrival, decorating the white stone walls with red roses and blackberries—suiting for a Targaryen. It was her duty as Lady Reagant until Olenna returned, since Loras reinstated his vows as a knight. She made sure the cooks had the food necessary for a feast fitting for a Queen. Wine was also being imported as a festival would be held for the Queen's coming. Margaery wasn't entirely sure about the Dragon Queen, but she knew that there wasn't much they could do to stop her and her dragons. _Besides an enemy of my enemy is my friend._ She was merely doing what her grandmother would have wanted her to do.

"That never stopped you.", Margaery responded with a smirk. She wore a crown made of twigs, vines, and daisies atop of her flowing brown curls. The front section of her hair was twisted into the crown with curls peeking through it into a waterfall fashion. Her dress was sheer around the shoulders and golden yellow silk along the length. She wore a golden belt around her waist with matching thin golden bracelets.

"Aye sister." Loras smirked back and took a swig from his gold mug.

"You're so bad…", Margaery responded. She watched him fidget a little and she pondered on his company. "Have you still been abstaining from—from you know?"

"Sister, must we discuss such things on a nice welcoming day?"

"Haha. I'm only asking because I don't want you to deny yourself happiness. You deserve it. Really.", Margaery answered. She watched as Loras glanced down and smirked a little. She reached over the table and grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

"Perhaps I will have to test Ser Daeron…", Loras responded while raising his eyebrows. Margaery laughed and threw a grape at him.

"Perhaps you should, you might have more luck than I have."

"You just need to give it time. He cares for you, I can tell.", Loras relayed while plopping a cube of cheese into his mouth. Margaery watched as he chewed.

"How can you tell?"

"It's all in the eyes sister.", Loras answered. He motioned to his own eyes and smirked. The two chuckled.

"Come brother. Let us get refreshed in the cool indoors."

.

Margaery now sat in the Golden Seat in Highgarden's partially enclosed Greenhouse. The Greenhouse was the area all meetings were held in Highgarden—sure they had their Great Hall, but the people of Highgarden prided themselves in being more organized and regal. A Great Hall was simply strictly for feasts. The Greenhouse had massive coulombs with vines draping from the ceiling, the vines containing blue flowers sprouting from them. The Golden Seat was a pure gold seat for the Lord or Lady of Highgarden in which business was handled. The little light that shined through the openings in the ceiling reflected off of the shiny metallic surface of the chair. The cushioning was an ivory silk that also glistened in the sun. The metal work at the base and top of the chair was elaborately designed into spirals and makeshift vines; one golden crafted rose was centered at the top of the seat. Margaery had been holding court for the majority of the time, but now before her a guard was bringing her a wooden box that was found outside of the gates. Margaery lifted her arm and Ser Daeron whom was standing behind her walked forward to retrieve it from the short guard. He held it and turned to Margaery. Margaery stood and looked out to the few in the courtyard—mainly commoners and a few noble representatives.

"My people I will continue after a short rest.", she spoke out before walking to the council chambers. Loras and Ser Daeron followed.

They made it into the council chamber and were met by Maester Lomys. He was a short man with a gray robe and brown skin. His eyes were green which complimented his black twisted long hair. He was very wise and wore links around his neck. He was one of the youngest Maesters in his time.

"Ser Daeron could you open it please?", Margaery asked. She took a couple of steps back as he took out his dagger and started to pry open the box. Loras stood beside him.

"What is it?", Loras asked. Daeron put his hand into the box and pulled out white fabric. He placed a wad of it on the table and Loras leaned forward to examine the inside of the box further. Margaery slowly walked forward and picked up the 'fabric' to discover it was hair. There were tinges of pink in the hair.

Loras gasped and walked away from the table. Ser Daeron placed the box on the table and stood rigid. Margaery headed for the table, before Daeron stopped her.

"My Lady.", he said to her. He shook his head and placed his hand on her shoulder. Margaery instantly grew worried and panicked. She shoved her way past Daeron and peered into the brown box. Inside of it she saw a golden rose with a severed wrinkled hand holding it. On the ring finger of the hand was a ring—her grandmother's ring. Margaery burst into tears and felt her knees go weak. Daeron grabbed her and held her. Loras sat in silence; tears escaped his eyes.

.

The next fortnight was the hardest of Margaery's life. She distanced herself from her friends and even Loras. She strictly handled the business of Highgarden and pushed her emotions away. The entire situation was frustrating as there was nothing she could do to get her grandmother back and she knew it. She was frustrated at her own survival because what was the cost of it? She blamed herself and most importantly she blamed Cersei. Margaery decided to focus all of her emotional energy into destroying her and to support the Dragon Queen. She would use her wits to ensure that Highgarden remained one of the founding kingdoms of Westeros. It stood before the Andal invasion and it remained after.

Margaery soon after discovering the hand, made the next discovery of the white hair belonging to Maester Tyron. Daeron himself was in sorrow in his own way, as he was hell-bent on revenge as well. The two's path of seeking revenge brought them closer. The difference was Daeron continued to build his walls around himself. Margaery attempted to soothe his pain, but she couldn't tell if he was numb or if he simply had already grieved. Loras who was numb to their grandmother's death began to drink more heavily. His heart was already prepared for the worst scenarios that could have came into play. He had found it odd that his grandmother hadn't arrived in Highgarden yet, so in hindsight he felt like a fool.

Daenerys Targaryen would arrive at the gates today as scouts in the Reach reported. The castle had been prepared with more greenery, harpists, singers, red roses, black berries, and wine. Margaery had chambers prepared in Royal Tower for Daenerys and her court. Daenerys' of which would have the best view with the sunrise. There would be a feast for her at night and Daenerys would give a speech to the people as to why they should support her. Margaery would have to give another as well. Margaery felt that the people were easing into the idea of her as a Queen especially after the news of their beloved 'Queen of Thorns'.

Margaery stood on her balcony at Royal Tower and gazed out at the three rings of white walls that surrounded Highgarden. She looked at the older towers which were built during the Age of Heroes and grimaced at their horrendous short wide shapes. Finally, she glanced up into the fields. At the top of the hill she saw the Unsullied escorts and carriages.

.

"Queen Daenerys it is an honor to finally meet you.", Margaery relayed with a curtsy. Daenerys had just arrived in the wooden gates with her Queensguard and her court. Commoners and noble people had gathered at Garth's Courtyard to see the white- haired Targaryen in the flesh. Loras and Daeron stood beside Margaery along with Maester Lomys. In front of her stood Daenerys, Lord Tyrion, and a brown skinned beautiful lady. Daenerys stood in a black leather dress embroidered with crystals to resemble dark red scales. On her left shoulder was plum colored silk draping down her arm to symbolize her royalty. Her hair was braided back into three braids which were also braided into a ponytail. The bottom half of her hair was braided into the ponytail as well creating an elegant pulled back style suitable for a strong Queen. The edges of her hair were loose and draped down the sides of her face in white tendrils.

"Lady Margaery as it is mine. This is most of my court. Lady Missandei is my most trusted advisor and of course you know my Lord Hand Tyrion.", Daenerys stated with a warm smile. Margaery glanced down to Tyrion and smiled. Margaery herself was in a teal blue gown with a green sash around her shoulders. Her hair was full of thick curls and twisted into a traditional southern up do.

"Of course, Lord Tyrion. Oh, I suppose it would be Lord Hand Tyrion now. Lady Missandei very nice to meet you—you are a foreign beauty."

"Nice to meet you as well. You are also a foreign beauty.", Missandei responded in her sothorosi accent. Missandei wore a black gown—the upper half being a corset and the lower half being red along the length. Her hair was twisted into a bun on the top of her round head and loose in tight curls on the sides of her head.

"Nice to meet your acquaintance again, Lady Margaery and Ser Loras. I am very sorry about your loss. Your grandmother was an exceptional woman.", Tyrion relayed. Margaery smiled down at him. Tyrion wore a black cloak robe with his silver Hand pendant pinned into it. Loras nodded his head down at Tyrion.

"Yes, she was. Queen Daenerys this is my brother, Ser Loras Tyrell and my newly named Master of Arms Ser Daeron Tyron."

"Your grace.", Daeron and Loras responded in unison. Daeron stood in his typical black armor and his hair was tied into a topknot. Loras stood in a mint green silk pantsuit; his golden headband wrapped around his forehead. Daenerys squinted her eyes and smiled at both of them.

"Now Queen Daenerys I'm sure you would like to get settled in your chambers before the festivities begin.", Margaery said.

"Yes, that would be great. Actually, after I would like to speak with you—somewhere private.", Daenerys stated.

.

"I hope this location suits you.", Margaery relayed. Daenerys emerged into the Godswood of Highgarden. Daenerys slowly paced into the compact courtyard and inhaled the sweet medicinal scent of the leaves and sap. She observed the auburn—almost plum colored leaves and the pale vines entangling the three trees into one. The trees were one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen. She looked at the three trunks and looked at the three carved faces—angry, sad, and solemn. At the base of the trunk the massive roots protruded into the soil and some into a small pool of deep blue water—the water was still with a couple of leaves afloat the surface. Daenerys found the stillness of the water soothing and at peace; she closed her eyes and listened to the rustling of the leaves.

"I'm sorry I've never seen a weirwood tree before, let alone three.", Daenerys stated. She apologized for her silence.

"A Queen should never apologize. I thought I'd let you take in it's greatness, your grace. It's beauty never fails to amaze me; they are called the 'Three Singers'."

"And these trees symbolize the connection to the old gods correct?", Daenerys pondered. She walked closer as if to feel the trees' energy. Margaery followed suit.

"Yes. It is said Garth Greenhand planted these himself. I suppose you don't need to see the faces to know the gods are always watching."

"I suppose so. Why not a face carved for happiness?", Daenerys asked. The faces were nearly concealed by vines wrapping all around their trunks.

"I always wondered the same, your grace. I suppose it is to remind one that happiness shouldn't be taken for granted in a world of sorrow and wrath."

"You are very wise Lady Margaery... When I heard of your grandmother's capture it angered me. I grew fond of her in our little time together… I vow to you that Cersei will not sit on the Iron Throne for much longer."

"Thank you, your grace. I'm sure my grandmother left quite an impression on you.", Margaery responded. Hearing about her grandmother deeply upset her once more and she immediately started to reserve herself.

"That she did. It must be odd to call me Queen seeing as you were Queen before Cersei.", Daenerys stated. Margaery arched her eyebrows and pondered on what reaction Daenerys wanted.

"It is actually, but none of that matters to me now. All I am after is to see Cersei suffer."

"You are more like your grandmother than you know. She wanted the same thing… As do I. I want nothing more than to fly my children to the Red Keep and to destroy it for the pain she has caused.", Daenerys stated with an expression Margaery couldn't describe. It reminded her of emptiness. Margaery stood silent as she wondered if she would actually do it; it was an odd thing to discuss in such a peaceful place.

"But you won't?"

"No I don't wish for the people to see me as the Queen of Ashes."

"They are your children. You cannot hide three full grown dragons forever. The people know the strength of a dragon especially after Aegon rode to Westeros and conquered the Kingdoms with one.", Margaery stated.

"So you are saying I should use them?"

"I am saying that if you wanted to use them—the people would understand. Or at least I would.", Margaery stated with a solemn face.

.

"I must say that the Southerners sure know how to celebrate.", Dany stated. She was in the decorated Great Hall. Flower petals were all over the tables and floors. Vines draped along the walls bearing red fireplums and peaches surrounded the hall. Daenerys sat in the center of the Head Table beside Margaery. Both of which wore flower crowns.

"Well they have much to celebrate, your grace.", Margaery responded. She drank a swig of wine as she watched the dancers perform to drums and horns. Loras sat beside her and Daeron beside him. Tyrion and Missandei sat beside Daenerys.

"Of course. Even the Dothraki I brought along are enjoying themselves and that is saying something."

"Ah they are… So, you wish to use the Reach's forces?", Margaery asked.

"Actually, I do not. I want the Reach to stay put and to continue farming. My men will need the resources and I want you to be able to defend yourselves.", Daenerys answered. Margaery glanced down and almost grimaced. She wanted the Reach to join the battle as she wanted a piece of the revenge when Cersei is defeated. "Do not worry your army may pose a necessity in the siege of King's Landing."

"Of course, your grace.", Margaery responded. Daenerys nodded to her and lifted her cup. "I believe it would be fitting to give the speeches now before the people drink too much, your grace."

"I believe you may be right as my Lord Hand has already drank too much. After you.", Daenerys stated. Though she didn't want to admit it she was nervous. The same people before her supported Robert Baratheon in his siege of King's Landing—the same siege that killed her cousins, Mother, Father, and brother. It sickened her. She fought the thoughts coming to her, telling her that they were traitors—snakes even. She forced a smile up to Margaery and gulped the rest of her wine.

"My people of Highgarden today we are here to celebrate the union of House Tyrell and House Targaryen in the war to come. I have pledged our forces to Queen Daenerys Targaryen who will lead Westeros into a new era—an era where monarchs will not manipulate the unable or the weak. More importantly she will remove the tyrant Cersei Lannister from the Iron Throne for her crimes against my grandmother Olenna Tyrell.", Margaery spoke. She grabbed the helm of her dress and sat down. She smiled at Daenerys who stood next.

"My people of Highgarden—I am Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen. Ever since I was a child I dreamed of being home which was taken from me when I was just a babe… Now I am here again. However, my home isn't going to be given back to me, I must take it back. I must take it back from those who would deny me my birthright and who would call me the usurper. I understand you all know of my Father's misdeeds of many and I can assure you I am not my Father. I want my people to be inspired by me and to lead just and fruitful lives. I know that with my khalasar of Dothraki, and army of Unsullied behind me that I can restore balance to the Seven Kingdoms. The question is will you join me?!"

…

Next time: Margaery grows close to Daeron. Her ruling is tested.


	11. An Empty Goblet

**CERSEI**

"An Empty Goblet"

"Cersei don't you think having her executed in front of an audience is a bit much?"

"Jaime this is the woman who murdered our son—our first-born son. I will not show her any mercy. Besides an audience would be to have her executed in the Dragonpit, with all of the common folk present.", Cersei replied nonchalantly. She was being dressed in her royal chains and pendants by one of her handmaidens. Her gown was black leather with a silver armor corset. She didn't want to have this conversation with Jaime, but she knew it would be a discussion. A fortnight ago she had Olenna's hand sent to the Reach after she was told the news about Joffrey. Olenna thought that she still held control in that moment so Cersei commanded Ser Gregor to remove her hand as fast as the words left the old cunt's mouth. Cersei smirked at the sound of Olenna's howl in pain. She smirked again at the thought.

"What is it you hope to gain by doing it in front of the nobles?", Jaime asked. Cersei was beginning to worry him. He knew she could be ruthless, but this was crossing the line even though the woman did murder his son. However, he also secretly knew that Joffrey had it coming—he was an evil boy.

"Well foremost humility before her death, as she will wonder what her opened neck will look like to the people present. Secondly I do not have love here. The people know of the Targaryen girl's uprising and I must remind them that I am in control here. As long as I sit on that throne I rule Westeros and I must use fear to keep them in line. The people despise me as I them, however they know the Lannisters always pay their debts. Now can we move on with our day?"

"No. If you think this is going to make you feel any better about Tommen it won't.", Jaime replied.

"What is it you want me to say? Tommen is gone. If you are still holding it over my head so be it. Just tell me that you blame me.", Cersei responded. She waved her handmaiden away and walked in front of her brother. Her private chambers were lit by the sunlight entering in from the balcony adjacent to the room. A wooden table stood beside Jaime and her.

"I don't blame you Cersei… It's just you didn't even tell me about it until I arrived here and I saw the banners—then I knew. When I arrived, it was as if you had already grieved and moved on."

"Jaime I didn't tell you through parchment because it was our son we are talking about. How could I send that to you as letters on a page? Yes I have grieved and I still do, but you couldn't understand."

"Couldn't understand?! I was his Father!", Jaime yelled in disbelief.

"No you couldn't have! I bore him for nine months and pushed him outside of me as he tore through me… I knew my children's fate long ago.", Cersei said. Her last sentence came out low. She thought of Maggy and her prophecy—she dared not think of her final words in the prophecy. She wouldn't breathe life into it. Never.

"Knew their fate? What are you going on about Cersei?", Jaime asked. He raised his eyebrows as he glanced at Cersei. She looked up into his eyes with her emerald green pair.

"Nothing—it doesn't matter now, does it? I loved my children, but we are all we have now brother. You can live in the past in regret, or you can join me in my rule."

"Well you give me no choice in the matter.", Jaime relayed.

"Come here.", Cersei said while kissing him passionately. Jaime hesitated at first before surrendering and relaxing into the kiss. His hands wandering to her hips, while hers gripped his head. They continued while becoming more entangled until Jaime stopped and walked away. Cersei stood there breathing heavy and placed her crown on her head. "Let us go."

.

"My Lords and Ladies today we are gathered for the execution of Olenna Tyrell, whom faces the punishment for treason and regicide. There will be no trial as she has already admitted to the crimes.", Cersei relayed to the small crowd of men and women. They looked up to her sitting on the Iron Throne and then down to Lady Olenna. She kneeled with her hands tied with rope. She wore her now dingy white undergarments and her long gray hair was exposed and matted. Her face was solemn, but not sad; she knew death would come for her eventually and she wouldn't give Cersei the satisfaction of seeing her tears. The only sadness she had was that she wouldn't get to see her grandchildren again. She kept her head high though she looked down at the pale ground. "Well, no need to hold this up any longer. Ser Gregor."

Ser Gregor walked down from his spot beside Cersei and unsheathed his sword. Men in the throne room placed a stump in front of Olenna and pushed her head down onto it. She closed her eyes and held her breath; she pictured Margaery and Loras. Ser Gregor held the sword at his torso and swung it down through her flesh and bone. Some of the audience quietly gasped and looked away. Jaime who stood beside his sister looked away as well. Others stood in silence and watched as Olenna's head fell to the stone and rolled to one side; her body fell on it's side as blood squirted out of her exposed neck. The room was silent for a moment before Cersei waved her hand. Men came and removed her head and body; the stump and dark red blood remained.

"Now that the execution is over we may discuss the impending attack on Dorne and Highgarden."

.

"Dorne, Cersei?", Jaime asked.

"Yes. Is there something wrong with that or have you forgotten about your daughter?", Cersei asked annoyed. The two were in her chambers. Cersei laid in her robe on her bed; Jaime sat at her bedside table drinking wine.

"I know—I was there. Dorne is a fortress, the terrain is much too dry and full of cliffs and rocks. Do you honestly think the ironborn will be able to sieze it?"

"Jaime I also listened to Father when he spoke about war and the Seven Kingdoms. More than you could ever know while you were out playing with your swords. The ironborn will sail to Sunspear and attack there. Once they have seized Sunspear, Dorne will fall. Win or fail it is no dispense to our forces.", Cersei relayed.

"Okay, Cersei…", Jaime surrendered. He knew he couldn't win the argument, so he gave up. He knew the terrain in Dorne and he highly doubted the ironborn would be successful. Cersei looked at him and wondered if he only went against her to keep some form of excitement going or if he simply was against her.

"You worry too much... Wine.", Cersei said. Jaime retrieved her goblet and poured her some wine. He handed her the glass goblet as he sat on the bed with her. Cersei gulped down half of her glass.

"You don't worry enough."

"Why worry about the things we cannot control?", Cersei asked. She finished her wine and threw her glass across her chambers. It hit the stone and shattered across the floor.

"What was that for?", Jaime asked her concerned. Cersei looked at him intensely.

"I need you here Jaime—with me, supporting me. Be here with me now in the moment.", Cersei said while mounting her brother. She kissed him and he kissed her back. The two started a battle over who could kiss with more ferocity and slowly started another over who could get undressed faster. The battle was resolved after the two laid naked in the bed as the sunset seeped into the room. Cersei's head rested on Jaime's shoulder, her leg over his thighs. The two laid there in silence exhaling. Cersei thought of her emptiness even after being reunited with her love. Her emptiness was the root of laying with a man she knew was falling out of love with her. Jaime thought of his emptiness—the emptiness he felt after losing their children and his shock over Cersei's character. He hoped that once her enemies were gone that she would find a new light in her life. Clearly he wouldn't be enough to stop her malicious ways.

Cersei reached to his only hand and brought it up to her lips to kiss it. She kissed it and realized there was a bandage over it. "What happened here?"

"There's something you must know.", Jaime responded in a low tone. He turned his head towards Cersei.

"What?", she asked.

"Arya Stark lives…"

"How?", was all Cersei could muster. That was the last thing she expected to come from his lips.

"It doesn't matter how. I saw her face to face and she is a Faceless Man now. She did this."

"What? Why did she let you leave?", Cersei asked. Part of her refused to believe his words.

"To pass a message to you… She says that she will come for you.", Jaime replied lowly.

"Let her.", Cersei replied. She said it with little confidence because she knew the thought frightened her as she knew the skills of any Faceless Man.

…

Next time: Cersei revels in victory. Jaime makes discoveries that disturb him.


End file.
